Snow Deep
by the other witch
Summary: A Harry centric and Snape centric story (no slash!). Christmas holidays during Harry's 6th year. Doesn't follow canon pairings. A very big thank you to my patient beta-reader TabbyBri.
1. December 21st

**December 21****st**

"Where are we going, Headmaster?" Harry asked nervously.

"Somewhere safe, my boy, don't worry." Dumbledore answered in a placating tone.

_Okay, I might not be worried,_ Harry thought rather sarcastically_, if you, instead of Uncle Vernon, hadn't shown up at King's Cross to pick me up, and then didn't bother to tell me why._

By the change in temperature – _gods,_ _and I thought that Scotland was cold!_ – Harry could tell they had portkeyed someplace far away, presumably somewhere well north of England.

"But, sir, just yesterday you told me I had to spend Christmas at the Dursleys." Harry tried again, shivering in the biting icy wind. He tried to stay calm, but Dumbledore was getting on his nerves with his nonchalant vagueness.

"The situation has changed," the old wizard continued in his annoying attitude, seemingly oblivious to both the killing cold and Harry's boiling temper. "I found you a place where you will be as safe as you would be at your Aunt's house. Ah, here we are." The last was added in an irritatingly pleased tone.

They reached a nice, ordinary looking house. Harry wondered if he would be staying with wizards or Muggles. Nearly all the windows were lit, so there was probably a family living inside, not a solitary person like Miss Figg.

_Great,_ he thought glumly_, it will be just wonderful to be an unwelcome observer imposing on a family celebration._

Of course, it was the same with the Dursleys; the three of them celebrating and Harry being in the way, an unwanted nuisance among the family of _'normal, respectable' people_. Harry never felt guilty for imposing on the Dursleys, though. At least not since he had come to understand that it wasn't he who was to blame – that was to say, since very recently. The Dursleys were supposed to care for him, to include him into their family just like the Weasleys did.

With a heavy heart Harry watched Dumbledore ring the doorbell. After a minute of nervous waiting the door opened and a woman appeared. She was like the house, nice and ordinary looking. Harry still couldn_'t_ guess if she was a Muggle or a witch.

She seemed to be alarmed by their presence. "Has something happened?"

"No, my dear," Dumbledore hastened to assure her.

She did not seem entirely comforted. "Where's... he?"

Harry couldn't miss the pause. There obviously should have been a name in that sentence.

"He will be here soon," the old wizard informed her soothingly.

The woman relaxed, but her expression turned even more displeased with their presence.

"What is the meaning of this, then?" she demanded, copying Harry's thoughts perfectly. He only hoped she would get better answers than he had received.

The woman suddenly looked back inside, from where, Harry just realized, a murmur of children's voices could be heard. She called out something in a foreign language, catching Harry off guard. He caught only the word 'Kolya' which he was pretty sure was a name. A door shut and silenced the murmur.

"Come in," she invited. They weren't invited to go far, however. They stopped in a small hall just inside the door. It was where shoes were changed and coats were hung. Harry took a moment to look at the outer clothes and decided that at least some of them were of wizarding style. Must be a magical household, then. A warm, magical household, thankfully. It was blissfully warmer than it was outside.

"I demand an explanation," she said to Dumbledore, turning to fix him with a steady gaze.

It reminded Harry painfully how unwelcome he was here.

_Couldn't the Headmaster at least inform her in advance, for God's sake? I'm lucky that I am too big to fit in a basket and to be left in front of the door!_

"Of course, Chris," the old wizard answered with maddening calm. "This is Harry Potter. He is unable to go home. I needed an equally safe alternative on the spur of the moment."

The woman – Chris – nodded at Harry in way of recognition.

"Your safe house," she pointed out meaningfully, though Harry could hear a question in her tone.

"Unfortunately, it has been compromised recently and had to be vacated." Dumbledore said with regret.

_Compromised,_ Harry thought stunned. _Were they talking about Grimmauld Place? __Did that mean there had been – or still was – a spy among the Order of the Phoenix?_

"Hogwarts," she offered.

"The Ministry will most likely try to take Harry." The wizard informed her, scaring Harry out of his wits.

_What did he mean take me?_ _Take where?_

"Take where?" Harry voiced his worries in what he hoped was a steady voice. "And why?"

"I am afraid I don't have time to explain, my boy," Dumbledore answered him. "Suffice it to say, I will do everything in my power to stabilize the situation before you return for the next semester. Which reminds me, I'm late for an important meeting."

"You should wait and talk to Severus," Chris pointed out sharply.

Harry felt alarm wash through him.

_Severus? Aka Severus Snape? Dumbledore has to be kidding! _

Harry really didn't know if he should scream in anger or panic.

"I have to be going. Merry Christmas!" The Headmaster smiled at them as if nothing had happened, and turned to leave.

"You broke the deal," Chris told to the parting wizard. The accusation – or statement, perhaps - was voiced without malice, but carried graveness. To Harry it sounded like a promise of repercussions or like an announcement that all other deals or expectations were off as well.

It felt the same as the final breaking of his friendship with Ron had been. After weeks of heated arguments, it was one cold and detached dialog that finished it off. Harry shook his head. He didn't want to think about that now.

He swallowed as the front door shut behind the Headmaster. "I'm sorry," he said awkwardly.

Chris looked him up and down as if appraising him. "I suppose you had as much choice as we did in this."

Harry nodded.

She sighed with obvious resigned anger. "Dumbledore moves people like chess pieces."

Harry nodded again. He felt silly – if he kept this up he could be mistook for a bobble-head toy - but there really wasn't anything to add.

"Well, Harry, welcome to our home. I'm Chris, as you've heard. Leave your coat and boots here. Do you have lighter shoes to wear inside?"

In answer, Harry took his summer trainers from his trunk, but Chris wrinkled her nose at them and handed him a pair of soft slippers. Harry had to admit that the trainers weren't very clean and they had holes in them too, the ugly old things.

"Come and meet our sons. I hope you will get along well." She led him inside and Harry had to wonder if that had been a threat. 

_Sons._

Harry was now hoping more than ever that her husband – or partner – was a different Severus. Snape hated children, so it was doubtful he would have his own. Maybe one as an heir, maybe as a pureblood thing, Harry guessed, but definitely not more of them. Not to mention that this pleasant woman would never fall for Snape, the greasy ugly bat.

While leading him to a big hall serving as a living room, Chris looked at him with a small, gentle smile. "I hope you were not offended. It's not as if I have anything against you personally. Dumbledore bringing any wizard here is a major security breach."

"Er- thanks," Harry murmured. "It was fine."

Then his gaze fell on a pair of dark haired boys who were in the living room. And another pair of dark haired boys. And then there was yet another a pair of dark haired boys. These were smaller, and couldn't have been more than five. _Three pairs of twins? _

"Isn't it like seeing double?" Chris grinned at him, and Harry laughed – something that he hadn't anticipated himself doing through the entire mucked up Christmas.

One of the oldest twins – Harry thought he had to be approximately the same age as he was - rolled his eyes, so this was obviously an old joke.

"Well, this is Harry. He will spend the Christmas holidays with us." Chris informed them. Then she pointed at the boys as she began to introduce them, starting with the oldest ones and finishing with the kids. "Harry, those are Andrei and Nicolay, Eduard and Pavel, and Sasha and Mark."

Harry got a chorus of 'hi's and weakly answered the same. He was doomed. He took a look at each of the boys, still surprised by the fact he was looking at three sets of twins. Whilst Chris' eyes were light brown, not unlike Ginny's, the boys' eyes were Snape-black, and whilst Chris' hair were rather dull brown, the boys' hair were jet-black, even the kids'. The middle pair of twins, Harry guessed they could be about 13 or 14 years old, had even the distinct Snape nose. Darn. There went his hope that this was not Snape's family.

Harry was officially dead.

"Has Dumbledore put some protective spells on you?" Chris interrupted his musings.

"Er- no?" Harry answered, feeling dumb. Judging by the looks he got, the boys thought him dumb too. That was, except for the small ones, who got back to their odd ball game, which consisted of throwing a soft ball at a large Christmas tree trying to hit and shoot down the – obviously spelled against just such mischief – ornaments.

"Okay, let me," Chris told him, and it was the only warning he got before she pointed her wand at him. In an eye blink, he had his own wand pointed back at her. His reaction was automatic. When he realised what he had done, he blushed.

"Good reflexes," she praised him, instead of getting angry. "Only, you should also make a step this way and turn 40 degrees so that you wouldn't have four wands pointed at your back."

Harry looked over his shoulder, and the boys smirked at him. He lowered his wand with a muttered his 'sorry'.

"Mum is the Dark Arts, Defense and Combat teacher," Andrei informed him.

"—"

"Now, Harry, do not worry. I'm going to put a few charms on you. Completely painless. I'll tell you in advance what they each are for, alright?"

"Okay. Er- sorry." Harry apologized for what seemed the thousand time that evening, feeling awkward. This was going to be the worst Christmas ever. And Snape even wasn't at home yet.

"The first charm confuses post owls. They will stay put where they got their letters, so nobody can even guess in which direction you are." She made a complicated motion with her wand and said, "Noctua Confundo."

Harry shivered as he felt the spell make contact, feeling his skin tingle. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, just odd.

"The second renders 'Point me' useless," Chris announced before producing an equally complicated wave, "Opertus."

"The third and fourth ones obscure you from seers and other users of various divination methods and similarly working devices," she informed him, "Positum Animae Obscuro. Medulla Secludo.

"Now, the last one will mask your magic signature. Of course the house and garden are both warded, but if you forgot and produced a spell outside... Still, it's not foolproof, so try to refrain."

"I can do magic?" Harry exclaimed in amazement. How many times during summers at Dursleys had he wished he had been allowed to use magic at least now and then to help with the most boring chores! Immediately he was mortified as he realized how his exclamation had sounded.

The four boys laughed appreciatively and then laughed some more when one of the kids innocently asked, "You haven't known you're a wizard?"

Chris' smile was more gentle, as she confirmed, "Yes, you can do magic here. Within reason, of course. I expect you to be sensible enough not to bring the roof down on our heads."

"Er- sure," Harry agreed, awkwardly returning her smile.

This time, Chris murmured a long string of Latin as she waved her wand over Harry. He hardly caught a single word he understood. He realised, though, that these five charms might be dead useful. He decided to ask Chris later if she could teach him.

When she was done, she said, "Now, why don't I have the boys show you around? I have to finish dinner. Andrei, Harry will be staying in the guest room." With that she disappeared into the kitchen and left Harry at the mercy of six Snapes.

Fortunately, only Andrei went upstairs with Harry to show him the house, and the others stayed in the living room. As he started up the staircase, Harry heard a comment by one of the middle twins, "Harry Potter of all people. Dad's gonna flip."

_Yup, your dad's gonna flip and kill me in process,_ Harry agreed silently.

"The first door is to the babies' room," Andrei motioned to the left, smirking at Harry.

"We're not babies!" came the yell from downstairs, and Andrei's smirk widened.

"This is my room, and this is Kolya's," he pointed at two doors on the left that were rather close together. "It used to be one big room when we were smaller. The last door is our parents' bedroom. Across from it is your room. Come have a look."

They stepped inside the room and Harry saw that it had windows on two sides. One set of windows showed the street by which Harry had come here, the other a garden. There was a carpet, a bed, a table, and a closet; it was just an ordinary bedroom, decorated in colours that suited both male and female guests. It was bigger than Harry's room at the Dursleys, and of course nicer, too. There were some moving pictures from Africa. Harry admired the nature and the gracefulness of the exotic animals.

"Kolya's hobby is taking pictures," Andrei explained, "he never goes anywhere without his camera. His pictures are all throughout the house."

"You went to Africa?" Harry asked with no small amount of envy.

"Last summer. It was great. We can show you tons of other pictures if you want."

For a Snape, Andrei was positively friendly, Harry decided. "I would love that, thanks."

They left the guest room and walked back to the staircase. Andrei pointed at the doors that were on the same side as the guest room was as they passed them. "Eda's room, Pavel's room, Mum and Dad's workroom, bathroom and another bathroom. Everyone has to clean it after themselves," he informed Harry. "Oh, and everyone has to keep their room neat. Even the twins have to pick up their toys, though we help them with cleaning."

"Sure," Harry said. It made sense that Chris wouldn't clean after seven people all the time. "Where do you do laundry?" He dared to presume Snape wouldn't chuck him directly out of the house tonight.

"You don't have to do your laundry. Just put dirty clothes in the bin in either of bathrooms, and it vanishes to the laundry room downstairs." As an afterthought the teen added, "You are welcome to help with cooking, though."

"Sure," Harry nodded happily. He wouldn't feel like such a burden if he pulled his weight.

"Daaaad! That's Daaaad!" screamed one of the kids downstairs, his voice thrilled. "Mum, Dad just came by a taxi!"

Harry froze.

Andrei chuckled. "You should see your face."

"What?"

"As if you prepared yourself for a battle with a dragon," he looked amused.

Dragons were tame plushies in comparison to Snape, in Harry's opinion. He didn't bother to voice it.

To Harry's surprise the teen offered, "Come to my room for a while if you want, and let Mum break the news."

It sounded tempting, but Harry's Gryffindor part found it too cowardly to allow. "No, but thanks." He said and really meant his words of gratitude. Andrei was surprisingly decent. They all were, really.

"Your call," the dark boy shrugged. "I guess I'll show you downstairs and the bellow later."

"What's the bellow?"

"Laundry room, Dad's lab, and a cellar."

They were in the middle of the stairs when the front hall door opened, revealing Snape.

Snape ignored the chorus of _"Hi, Dad's_" and absentmindedly caught the smallest pair of twins who jumped at him. As he stepped inside the living room, he asked, "Whose trunk is in the-"

Then his gaze fell on Harry and his lips pressed into a thin line. An angry vein rose on his forehead and pulsed dangerously. Harry prepared himself for scolding. Or maybe death.

"Hi, darling. Come to the table," Chris beat her husband to it, casting a very meaningful glance at the small boys Snape was holding, "Dinner is ready."

"I'm starving," said Nicolay helpfully, and Harry felt immensely grateful.

Snape nodded, obviously fighting his anger for the sake of his youngest sons. His eyes - still glued to Harry's - screamed murder.

"Daddy, you didn't kiss Mum!" One of the smallest twins rebuked him indignantly. Each of them were perched on one of Snape's sides, their little hands around his neck, and they were ignoring - or more likely not noticing - the tension in the room.

Snape obligingly kissed Chris, and murmured something quietly to her. She nodded and led their offspring to the kitchen. Snape walked towards Harry and Andrei. He stopped two stairs under them, which brought his and Harry's head to the same level. Harry stared at him with trepidation and no small amount of fear. Andrei was silent. Harry idly wondered what his expression was. After a while, Snape turned his head to Andrei, his face softened and he nodded to his son. Then he continued his journey, passing between them without a word. Harry let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

Maybe he should celebrate his second birthday on the December 21st.

"It's turkey for dinner," Andrei informed him. "Dad likes it, so Mum always roasts it for the first meal together."

Harry thought the other boy was feeling uncomfortable, and so he retreated to small talk. Harry supposed he should cooperate, and so he inquired, "How old are you, anyway? I'll be 17 this summer."

"I'm a couple of months older than you, then," Andrei smiled at him. "My birthday is in May." They walked together into a big room that was dinning room and kitchen together. It was similar to the Burrow kitchen, but it was bigger and with a more modern feel.

Chris showed Harry his chair and said, "Going by custom, you should sit by Severus' right hand, but Sasha and Mark like to usurp places beside Severus for themselves. And you and he don't go together well anyway, as far as I've heard..." she trailed off.

Harry nodded at her euphemism. Snape detested him, and Harry alternatively hated and feared the older wizard. "Thanks, I'll be glad to sit here with Andrei and Kolya. We are nearly same age, too."

Snape appeared a few moments later, having changed into casual black trousers and light-grey sweater with Nordic patterns in white. In this attire, he looked more human and less like the vampire of the dungeons. The normalcy of his appearance was a bizarre sight. They all busied themselves with the delicious turkey; all but the smallest Snapes, that is.

"Guess what, Dad," one of the kids asked.

"Fata Morgan," Snape answered lightly, and the little twins giggled.

"No!" The kid told him with 'you are so silly!' expression. "We maybe did magic last week!"

"Only we don't know which one of us," the other kid added somewhat unhappily.

"They claim a dog was barking and growling at them through the garden fence, and then it suddenly yelped in pain and ran away," Chris explained.

Harry thought that it might have been just a coincidence, not the twins' magic, and he had the feeling that Chris thought the same.

"It is rather early for you two to do accidental magic," Snape told them. "But give it two or three years and incidents like that will become rather common."

"What if we won't, though," the more timid twin asked.

"I will," the other boasted. Harry could see that they looked the same, but apparently they had quite different personalities.

"I'm sure you will, Mark," Snape turned to the unsure one. Harry wondered how he told them apart.

"What if I don't?" Mark insisted.

"We will love you anyway," Chris told him, and Harry realised this was probably a big issue for every child in a magic family. Squibs were frowned upon, Harry guessed. Maybe even disowned or killed in cruel snot families like Malfoys.

"It wouldn't matter to us." Snape assured him. "We would help you find something you would excel at."

"Like what?" Mark asked doubtfully.

"You could be a herbologist," one of the middle twins told him, whilst the others were thinking.

The kid looked nonplussed.

"Or a photographer," Kolya said. It was easy to tell them apart, Harry realised, because Andrei had a short military-like haircut, whilst Nicolay wore his hair slightly longer – though still much shorter than Snape.

Mark still didn't seem to be overly happy over the prospect of digging in dirt or making pictures, so Harry piped in hesitantly, "You could be a pilot."

"Yeah!" Mark enthused, "I'll be a pilot of that huge jet we took to Africa!"

"Me too!" Sasha cried. "I'm gonna be a pilot even though I'm gonna do magic too!"

Harry was careful not to look at Snape.

"Let's make plans for the holiday," Chris changed the topic. "Are you going to stay all three weeks, Severus?"

Snape acquiesced he would, and all of his family enthused. Harry still couldn't wrap his head over the fact that they all were so fond of Snape and Snape of them. Of course, they were a family. But it was _Snape_!

"So, anything special you want to do?"

"We want to build a snow fortress with Dad," Sasha said immediately. "And then we want to battle against everyone."

"Okay, you can do that tomorrow morning if you want, if your father agrees, of course. I have to do some last minute shopping." Chris said. Harry thought it was interesting that she was the mediator. He would expect Snape to have the first word, but so far the man was rather laid back.

"I can make lunch if you want, Mum," Andrei offered, and she gratefully nodded. Harry decided he would help Andrei, but he would offer it in private. So far Snape had pretended Harry didn't exist and Harry wanted that to last as long as possible.

"I would like to do an all day cross-country ski trip, dad," Eduard or Pavel said, "If you are game," he added with a mischievous smirk. Snape nodded.

"I'll join you," Andrei told them, and his twin raised his hand, indicating he was in, too. They quickly decided to leave it for some day after the Christmas day, and have a few shorter 'training trips' beforehand.

"You promised to go with me through theory of the Wolfsbane potion, Dad," the other middle twin – Harry had just noticed this boy had a well visible scar on his thumb – reminded Snape.

The Potions master smiled at him proudly. "I didn't forget, son."

"Eduard and I are into potions," Nicolay informed Harry quietly. "Of course, Andrei and Pavel are decent at potions too, but they don't plan to make a living of it."

Harry nodded gratefully. It was one thing to try being ignored by Snape, and another entirely to be ignored by everyone.

"Speaking of potions," Chris smiled, "I'm going to make home-made chocolate on Christmas day morning, and I need volunteers."

From the reactions it was obvious that it was a Christmas tradition at Snapes and that mentioning 'volunteers' was a joke. All the family was there, making and tasting the sweet miracle. Chris graciously invited Harry to join them, 'because fresh home-made chocolate was like no other'. Harry thanked her, grateful that she was sitting just opposite to Snape and so Harry didn't have to see the man's reaction to this invitation.

Chris then reminded Snape that they had to attend a beneficiary banquet in the evening of December 26th, and after a small debate – and pleading looks from the middle twins – it was decided that all the boys would be staying at home. Andrei and Kolya had to baby-sit the kids, and Pavel and Eduard obviously wanted to do anything else but attend the banquet.

By the time they were done with the turkey, all the boys made an attack on the fridge and freezer, bringing out various kinds of ice-creams, creams, fruits, and toppings. Everyone got a glass bowl and a spoon and made himself a sundae of their liking. Apparently another tradition of Snapes.

Harry observed the amount of ice-cream everyone scooped into their bowls and decided not to be shy. He loved ice-cream and he rarely had an opportunity to indulge. At Hogwarts ice-cream was never served, at the Dursleys it was never for Harry, and so he only could have one in Diagon Alley or on Hogsmeade's outings. Soon he was enjoying the taste of strawberry and lemon ice-cream mixed together, and with a sense of the unreal he discreetly observed the feared Potions master feeding on chocolate ice-cream with chocolate chips, covered with chocolate cream and chocolate topping. The man was nothing if not dramatic.

"When is Minerva coming?" Eduard asked Snape.

"On the morning of 27th," his father informed him. "She's going to stay until the 30th."

"Minerva's your Transfiguration teacher, right?" Pavel asked Harry, whose chin was lower than it should be.

Harry nodded. The sense of surrealism engulfed him. First Snape, and now McGonagall.

Chris noticed his expression and explained, "My parents died when I was a child and Minerva with her husband raised me."

Harry nodded again. He felt like a puppet.

More winter entertainment was planned, like ice-skating on the nearby lake, a visit to a Muggle aquapark, a Muggle cinema, and a Muggle shopping center – apparently, the boys' school's Muggle Studies classes were a tad bit more practical than the Hogwarts ones -, and a trip or two to family friends. Harry wasn't told which, if any, of those outings included him, and he didn't dare to ask. Being here was still much better than being at Privet Drive, although frankly, Harry would prefer staying at Hogwarts to coming here.

The evening turned even better for Harry, because it was time for the youngest ones to get their baths, and then to bed. The kids, bless them, decided that it had to be their father who would take them through their ablutions tonight and read the bedtime story.

When Snape left, Harry relaxed. He was nicely stuffed, and currently he was only sipping a glass of orange juice.

"You've been silent tonight, Harry. I'm sure you have to be full of questions." Chris encouraged him. The boys stopped discussing possible routes for their planned skiing trips, and looked at Harry. Pavel even raised his eyebrow in a decidedly Snape-like manner.

"Can I go outside?" Harry picked up the question that bothered him the most. "I mean, outside of your garden."

"Of course, that's why I charmed you," Chris told him, surprised. Harry thought she must think him dense. She couldn't know he had wanted to ask, _'Will Snape allow me outside?'_

"We won't take you to meet our family friends, of course," she continued then, as she decided to interpret his question in a way that made sense to her, "you can accompany us to other trips. I think we will disguise you to look similar to us, and pretend you are some sort of relative, just to be safe. Severus' cousin, maybe? You will just have to refrain from doing magic. Unless you are in danger, of course."

"Do you cross-country ski?" Pavel asked.

"Er- no."

When they learnt Harry couldn't ice-skate either, the boys offered – with a touch of pity in their faces – to teach him. Harry thought they wondered what he had been doing all previous winters.

"You play Seeker, right?" Andrei asked him. "We read things in the newspaper but it usually sounds like rubbish."

"Being Seeker is probably the only true information they've ever printed about me," nodded Harry.

"It's too cold here to fly during winter," Chris' voice dashed any hope Harry carried.

"Where's here, anyway?" he asked dejectedly. A series of snorts, chokes and laughs sounded.

Chris shot their sons a reproving stare and said calmly, "Russia."

Harry blinked. He didn't have time to consider this bit of news, as Chris continued.

"We will find ski and ski-shoes, and skates here for you, I think you might be just the size Andy and Kolya were last winter. I hope you don't mind second-hand?" Chris asked.

She was really awfully nice, Harry reflected, and thanked her, assuring her he had no problem with second-hand things. He bit down his disappointment over being once-again smaller than anyone else in his age group. Drat, even Pavel and Eduard were nearly as tall as him. He was only spared the indignity of being smaller than girls, as there were none in this household. He idly wondered how normal it was in Russia to have so many children, and if wizards had twins often or if Snape cheated and mixed himself a twin-inducing potion.

"Harry? Harry?"

His head snapped up, and he blushed. "Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts," he apologised.

"That's alright," Chris told him, "I asked if you had everything you needed tonight, toothbrush, pajamas, towel. I couldn't fail to notice this was quite an unexpected trip for you."

"I was completely packed," he assured her, "I just thought I was going to my relatives."

"Why didn't you?" Pavel asked.

He sounded curious, not malicious, so Harry decided he wouldn't take offence. Chris probably deserved some kind of explanation anyway. Only, Harry didn't have any information to share.

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "The Headmaster just picked me up in London and in fifteen minutes I was here."

One set of light brown and four sets of dark brown eyes gazed at him, contemplating.

"Something happened to your relatives," the first idea was voiced.

"Eduard!"

"Okay, so maybe nothing happened to them but there were Death-Eaters around their house." Eduard allowed.

"In that case Dumbledore would have to relocate them, and he would have relocated Harry _with_ them," Kolya pointed out. "If you have to hide a family, why not hide it together."

"Maybe he didn't relocate them."

"_Eduard!"_

"Maybe they had a car accident," Pavel threw in. Under the furious gaze of his mother, he added hastily, "Some little accident. It takes ages to re-grow a bone for Muggles."

"Muggles cannot re-grow bones," Harry commented idly. He felt completely numb. What if something happened to the Dursleys? Granted, Harry didn't like them. Hell, there were moments when he actively hated them. But still. What if the Death-Eaters killed them? What if they died because of being near to Harry? Like Sirius? Like Cedric?

Chris looked at him. He supposed he had showed severe lack of emotion over presumable accident, or death of his relatives.

"You've gone pale. Do you want a calming draught?" she asked. The middle twins looked vaguely ashamed.

Harry shook his head. He wanted a dose of Dream-less Sleep but he was shy to ask. "Can you contact Dumbledore? Safely?" he added hastily.

"We will find out," she promised him. "Don't worry too much, okay? This can easily be just one of Dumbledore's schemes. He might have planned to take you here for weeks, but if he told you, you would confront Severus, and Severus would do everything to thwart that plan."

Harry looked at her gratefully. It sounded a lot like Dumbledore.

A loud noise of splashing sounded from upstairs. Chris looked up with an amused grin. "I should better go and check on them. The babies should have been in bed ages ago."

Afterward they talked in an even more relaxed manner. Harry learned that they all lived at Durmstrang ten months a year. That kind of explained why they planned only short trips and always got back home for nights. Chris was teaching there, the four older boys studied, and the school even provided a nurse for Sasha and Mark – 'they really want Mum there, you know, she's a great teacher'. Harry was glad they didn't ask if Snape was a great teacher. It would be impolite to say the truth, but given their history, Harry definitely didn't feel like lying.

As if Andrei knew Harry was thinking about their father, he asked, "So, you and Dad?"

Harry shrugged. The boys looked at him expectantly, so he said, shrugging again, "Explosive."

They laughed. "He is," they agreed.

"He's going to be decent to you," Andrei assured him. "You're our guest, so he's honour bound to treat you with respect."

It was hard to believe. On the other hand, for a Slytherin it probably was entirely possible to hex someone in front of his house, and pour him a glass of wine inside.

Harry shrugged, and changed the topic. "So, does your Mum teach one subject or three?"

"One, it's just a complicated title." Andrei responded, "But she also sponsors a duelling club."

"Cool. Can we duel here?" Harry asked. He guessed he could learn a lot during the three weeks. "You must be pretty good."

"Not inside," Kolya informed him, "Mum wouldn't have it. But I guess we could practice in the garden. To fight against the Boy-Who-Lived, imagine," he added with a smirk.

"I hate that moniker," Harry informed him firmly. "Everywhere I go people think they know me before they even meet me."

"Makes sense," Kolya acknowledged, his smirk vanishing. "You were only a baby when it happened after all. So, are you any good at magical combat?"

Harry hesitated. He usually felt confident about his Defence skills. Then again, he had been no match for the Death-Eaters the summer before last. And between a Durmstang Defence teacher, and Snape's dirty tricks, the boys were probably pretty well trained. "I'm reasonably good at Defence," he said finally, "but I think I have a lot to learn."

The four boys exchanged glances and nodded more at themselves than at Harry. He suddenly felt as if he had passed a test he hadn't known he was undertaking.

They sat in silence for a while. Harry didn't mind. It was a comfortable kind of silence. Then Pavel and Eduard got back to planning their ski-trips, and soon they were joined by Chris, whilst Snape stayed upstairs reading bed-time stories. Which, again, boggled Harry's mind. Harry figured out it was the best time to hide in his room and excused himself.

Harry was lying in his comfortable bed, more comfortable than his Hogwarts one. He felt alone in the room, missing the snores of his Gryffindor roommates. His thoughts were swirling madly, and he didn't feel he could fall asleep anytime soon. He had heard everyone but Chris and Snape go to their rooms, bidding 'Goodnights' to each other, but he was just watching the white ceiling, and the snow falling behind the window dimly lit by the streets lamps.

He missed Hermione. He missed the hug and quick kiss she always gave him before they split for the night, climbing to their respective dormitories.

The Burrow, predictably, came to his mind right afterwards. By this time Ron surely informed everyone that Harry was a total bastard who 'had stolen his girlfriend'. Harry supposed that Ron managed to turn Mrs. Weasley against him. She had been nasty to Hermione a few years back, sending her the smallest Easter egg just because the Prophet had printed a story about Harry and Hermione. Harry knew that Ginny stayed a true friend to him, and he supposed that the twins and other Ron's older brothers didn't really care one way or another. Mr. Weasley was an enigma in this, as he always let his fierce wife do the talking. Harry suddenly realised how petty the woman was. He still liked her a lot, of course, but he couldn't miss how easily she would be swayed and turned against people she had liked.

His 'adopted' family – that might have rejected him by now – brought thoughts about his 'true' family, if the Dursleys could be called that. What the hell happened to them? Chris' explanation was a nice one, and Harry longed to believe it. At the same time, he somehow _knew_ that the truth was worse. But how worse, he didn't want to guess.

Harry willed thoughts of the Dursleys away. He was so tired! Why was sleep evading him so? He suddenly wished he had learned Occlumency back in his fifth year. He would simply clear his mind now and fall asleep! The sharp pang of guilt came the second after. He should have learned Occlumency to save Sirius, not to help himself sleep! Without protection, his mind was opened to Voldemort and to any unscrupulous Legilimens.

Harry bolted upright.

Any Legilimens could read about the Snape secret family. He would endanger them all, from Snape to the smallest twins!

Harry leaped out of his bed and hurried to the sitting room. He had to tell Snape at once and beg him for a book on Occlumency, or even lessons in it.

Barefoot, he reached the stairs noiselessly. He halted when he heard voices from downstairs. Chris said something he didn't catch, and Snape responded, "I don't want to talk about Harry Bloody Potter. I haven't seen my lovely wife for several months, and I have something completely else on my mind." His voice changed through the speech from angry, to petulant, to seductive.

Harry hesitated, but decided it was really important. He descended the stairs. The glare Snape gave him as he came into sight nearly drove him back upstairs, but he stood his ground. He tried to ignore the way Snape's arm was wrapped around Chris' shoulder and how his hand gently caressed her shoulder.

"I need to learn Occlumency, so that nobody can read about you from my mind," Harry informed Chris urgently.

"Oh, and you think you can achieve it in mere three weeks? How arrogant can you get, Potter?" Snape reacted instead of Chris.

Harry's anger flared. He was aware that his face reddened. Leave it to Snape to belittle him instead of offering him help. Didn't the man realise he was endangering his own family? "I have to try!"

This time Chris was faster to respond. "It's okay, Harry. I will lock all memories about this Christmas in your mind. You will remember everything, but you won't be able to talk about it. Also, nobody else would be able to reach the memories through Legilimency, Veritaserum or any other truth charms or potions."

"Oh," Harry's anger at Snape and his panic deflating. "I didn't know that was possible."

Chris smiled at him gently. "I come from a long line of witches and wizards, and as every old family, we have our secrets."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, and wasn't willing to say 'oh' again.

After a short pause, Chris offered, "I can still lend you a book on Occlumency. It's a very useful skill to have."

_Always a teacher._ Harry smiled back at her. "I would like that."

"Not tonight though," Chris informed him, "now is time for you to sleep. You have no idea how early the babies get up."

"Good night," Harry said obediently, retiring back to his room. On his way he could hear Snape complaining.

"Potter is always so arrogant. Always knows better. His impulsiveness will get him killed one day."

"I thought you had something else on your mind," Harry could hear her answer and swiftly shut the door to his room. There were definitely things he didn't want to know about Snape.


	2. December 22nd

**December 22****nd**

Harry laughed. Then he laughed some more, before he attempted to stand up again. All six of the boys around him laughed with him, or more likely _at_ him. Harry didn't care. One thing was for sure, Harry definitely didn't bear any inborn talent when it came to cross-country skiing.

"You need to straighten your ski first, then your legs, and only then stand up," Eduard or Pavel – Harry couldn't tell which one, because they were wearing gloves - advised him. It was a variation of advice Harry had been already given three or four times. Only, nobody clarified to him how exactly he was supposed to sort out the ski when he was half buried in snow.

Harry enviously eyed the short skis the smallest twins were wearing. They seemed a little wobbly on them but in comparison to Harry's performance, they were the champions. He made one more effort to stand up. For a second he believed he would be successful, but then he fell back into the snow like a stone. It brought a new round of laughter from everyone.

The back door shut. With effort, Harry turned his head and saw Snape coming out into the garden. Harry's smile vanished from his face immediately. He looked at Andrei. To his relief the solicitous teenager took pity of him, manoeuvred his ski with practised ease to get right beside Harry, and helped him up, out of the white cold trap.

"It's easy to get stuck when the snow is this deep," he encouraged Harry. "You will get it soon enough."

"And we're going to lose a cheap source of fun," Kolya - distinguishable from his twin by the blue colour of his hat - added, grinning. He was a teaser, apparently, but his joking didn't have the biting edge that would set Harry off.

Snape reached them. Harry tensed, wondering if the man would belittle him for his unexpected clumsiness on skis. To his relief, Snape decided to ignore him once more. Maybe he would ignore Harry all of the Christmas break, and would get so used to it that he wouldn't stop at Hogwarts. Wishful thinking.

"Still wanting to make the biggest snow fortress ever?" Snape addressed his youngest sons challengingly.

"Sure!" they shouted together, reminding Harry of Fred and George.

"We'll make a short trip, Dad. I, Eda, and Kolya," Pavel announced. "Just around the forest. We'll keep together, and Kolya will send a Patronus if we get into any trouble." He recited the apparently well learned mantra. Pavel was wearing a black hat, and black jacket, whilst Eduard blue ones, Harry noted an outdoor difference. Harry hoped they didn't keep switching it.

"Good," Snape nodded. He glanced at Andrei.

"I'm making lunch," his son shrugged, and then grinned. "And before that I'll give Harry his first ski lesson."

"Shall we make a trip in the afternoon, then?" Snape offered.

"I would like that, Dad," Andrei smiled at Snape. "Let's go to the Wood Chapel."

"Easy, son, it's my first time this winter. I would like to be able to feel my legs tomorrow," Snape curbed his enthusiasm.

Harry's mouth opened in surprise. He couldn't believe Snape of all people would admit a weakness, all the more to his sons, and to top it off, in front of Harry. It seemed that Snape was a completely different man at home. It was something Harry really couldn't believe. Snape was harsh and cruel at Hogwarts, he could tame his bad habits at home, but he was still the same man. If pushed far enough, he would –

"Sorry, Dad. The Fisher's hut in Trouts Bay, then?" Andrei offered an alternative. He didn't seem surprised by his father's behaviour at all.

"That would do," Snape agreed. He turned to Alexander and Mark, "Let's find the best spot for a fortress."

To Harry's relief they found a spot between three trees in the more remote part of the huge garden. Harry had relative privacy for his learning. Slowly, he found out how to move his legs so that he would keep his balance and the front ski didn't go too far.

"See," Andrei told him patiently, "now you only need to practice around the garden. Tomorrow we can try a short trip. I think I'll go and help with the fortress. Do you want to come?"

"No, thanks," Harry refused quickly. "But when you go cooking, I'll help."

"Can you cook?" Andrei asked him, his dark eyes doubting Harry.

"Sure, I used to cook at my relatives' house. I can cook a whole meal tomorrow or some other day, I just need to get better idea of how much food you all need." Harry informed him. For some reason, it irked him somewhat that people considered him good-for-nothing just because he was the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Mum will be glad," Andrei assured him. "She takes it as a day off any time one of us offers to cook. Dad cooks sometimes, too. He's great with steaks." It wasn't the first off hand comment on Snape. Andrei had kept mentioning him while he guided Harry through skiing and lifting him off from snow. From his words, Harry would nearly believe Snape was human.

_Yes,_ Harry realised, _Andrei was trying to persuade him Snape was a good man, a good father._ Harry's experience told him something different, though. Andrei hadn't seen and hadn't heard Snape bullying kids. He hadn't witnessed Snape attacking Harry in his first ever Potions class. He hadn't heard his cruel comment to Hermione about her teeth. He hadn't seen girls, and occasionally boys, leave Snape's lessons and detentions in tears.

Harry left it without an answer, as he had done with all the previous comments on Snape. He wasn't going to shatter Andrei's – or any of his brothers' – illusions. He definitely didn't feel like telling them that their father was one of the foulest gits Harry had ever met.

"I'm gonna practice," he said instead, "I'm freezing." It was really unreasonably cold here. The pale sun did nothing to warm them, and the wind was biting. While moving he was reasonably warm in the sports jacket and pants Chris lent him, but when he stopped he was cold immediately.

xxx

"Lunch is delicious. Thank you, Andrei and Harry," Chris praised them when she tasted her plate of spaghetti, and meatballs in tomato sauce. She added more of the grated Parmesan cheese.

"Thanks," the rest of the family echoed. Harry was nearly sure he heard even Snape's deep voice among others.

Harry smiled at Chris. He really liked her.

"I found a nice water park today, not far away from an Apparition spot," she announced. "I thought we might go there tomorrow morning, if you all agree?"

Her family beamed at her. Even Snape, at whom Harry sneaked a glance, seemed pleased by the vision of water fun. _Snape in swimming trunks._ Harry choked on a meatball.

Mark and Sasha giggled, and Andrei gamely hit Harry's back a few times.

"Can you swim?" Pavel asked, misinterpreting the source of Harry's problem.

"Yes, I can," Harry said with dignity. "I just realised I didn't have swimming trunks here." Or anywhere, really. Ron had lent Harry his spare, and Harry had given it back before he had left the Burrow. He wondered if Snape was going to comment on Harry's poor packing skills.

Snape didn't.

Predictably, Chris assured Harry that they would find a spare pair of swimming trunks for Harry.

"Thank you," Harry said, blushing. He suddenly felt he was imposing so much on his hosts. They had to house him, feed him, and lend him so many things. Harry bet Snape was biting the inner side of his cheek to keep from commenting on that. Or to refrain from pointing out they didn't have to bother with taking Harry to the water park.

Snape stayed silent again.

Harry suddenly realised Snape was bound by his family's expectations on him. He couldn't attack Harry, because he wanted to pretend he was their sweet fair daddy. Harry was safe as long as he didn't stay alone with the malicious wizard.

xxx

After lunch they fought a fierce snow battle. Harry had big fun. Everyone participated, even Chris. He was surprised how much effort it took to conquer the snow fortress. Snape, Sasha, and Mark protected it fiercely. The five older boys and Chris needed nearly thirty minutes and countless snowballs to get inside. Of course, it would be much easier if they hadn't set the rule that the attack can be done from the front side only, no sneaking from behind.

Afterwards, Snape and the four older boys went to a ski-trip.

Harry relaxed, as he always did when Snape got further away from him.

"The boys can't get enough exercise," Chris laughed, "they are always like that after the mid-exams."

"Durmstrang holds them before Christmas?" Harry wondered how anyone could concentrate on cramming knowledge in the excitement and pre-holiday buzz. "We always have them in January."

"That's why Severus has to correct essays and tests during the school year whilst I do it in leisure through the holiday." Chris informed him contentedly, "also, it keeps students occupied and grounded before Christmas, and free to have fun during it."

Said this way it definitely made sense, Harry admitted. It also brought home that he better study hard through the holiday. If Hermione decided that he wasn't ready for the tests, she would make him a killer schedule without any pauses for kisses or a quick snog in January.

"I can play with Sasha and Mark if you want to go inside," Harry offered. "We can build a snowman or a snowdragon."

"Snowdragon! Snowdragon!" the twins started chanting. "Snowdragon! Snowdragon!"

"Didn't you want to practice skiing?" Chris asked.

"I can do it later," Harry insisted. He felt he could pay Chris back for her generosity this way.

"Thank you, I definitely can use some time to catch up with correspondence and gifts wrapping." She smiled at him gratefully. "Drying and warming charms won't go amiss, then," she added and spelled all the three of them from the head to toes.

Before she did so, Harry hadn't even realised how cold he had been.

"Thanks," he chorused with the twins, and then they set into building the 'best snowdragon ever'.

Later, Chris came for the small boys to lead them inside for a fruit snack. Harry asked her for another warming charm, so that he could practice skiing. He was shuffling around the garden and felt a surprising surge of peacefulness spreading through him. It was just him, the skis, snow, and the safety of the garden. His head felt clearer than it had for a long time.

When the light started diminishing, Harry decided to go inside. He would have some quick tea, and then he would hide in his room before Snape got home. He wanted to have a look at the two Occlumency books Chris had handed him after lunch.

His plan worked. Harry laid sprawled on his bed on his belly, thumbing through the book _The Secreted Secrets_. It was supposed to be more practical than the other one called _Occlumency and its Branches Through the Centuries_. Harry read the very general first chapter about things you could train your mind to manage, like calming one's mind and breath, remembering a long sequence of numbers, waking up at a certain hour without an alarm, and many others. Some of it sounded useful. Harry wished Snape had lent him this book instead of putting him through his awful lessons.

Harry's resentment of Snape had risen. Occlumency brought back memories; it refreshed the memory of his feelings of impotent hatred and rage he had felt during those awful evenings in Snape's study, and during the summer after Sirius' death. If Snape had lent him books... If Snape had really taught Harry something... If Snape-

Harry got up. He couldn't concentrate on reading any more. He couldn't think about anything else but Snape faults, and the deep hatred Harry felt towards the man. Harry couldn't even stay still. He started pacing his room like a caged animal, wishing desperately for his broom and the freedom of air.

A knock sounded.

Harry turned towards the door, trying to rein in his emotions.

It was Andrei, who came to tell him it was dinner time. Harry followed the boy – who was so similar to Snape in visage, and yet so dissimilar in behaviour – and tried to find any resentment in himself for Andy or his brothers. He found none. Harry felt his lip curling bitterly. He could hate the boys like Snape hated him for his James-like appearance. Yet, Harry didn't. Snape was Snape, and Andrei was Andrei. Harry didn't blame Andy for Snape's behaviour. It was only Snape, the small man, hating a child of eleven for his dead sire's deeds.

"You okay?" Andrei asked hesitantly.

Harry took a deep breath, and controlled his expression – or at least he hoped he did. This wouldn't do, to radiate his emotions all over.

"Yeah. Sorry. Just remembered something unpleasant," he mumbled, and changed for the topic that was offering. "What's for dinner?"

"Fish. It's grilled with potatoes. And Greek salad. Mum got this receipt from a cook in Greece." Andy answered at length. Harry thought the boy looked relieved.

Through the dinner, Harry kept to himself, joining only the appreciative comments about the dish. Apart from that, he concentrated on the fish. With the fish bones, it was a very convenient meal if one wanted to keep his eyes on the plate. As desert, they had a small piece of pastry oozing honey and filled with nuts. It was possibly the sweetest thing Harry ever tasted.

"I'll clean," Kolya offered, and Chris nodded at him gratefully.

Harry would think that a household with four boys would have some kind of chart, who cleaned what and when, but it seemed that the Snapes worked on a voluntary basis. Harry wondered if someone slacked off, or if they all helped the same.

"I'll help you," Harry told Kolya. "Andy taught me a dish drying charm, and a sweeping charm yesterday."

"You didn't have to clean at home?" one of the small boys asked. He sounded a bit envious to Harry's ears.

"I did. But my relatives are Muggles, so I did everything the Muggle way," Harry explained.

The kid's expression was compassionate; he nodded gravely, "we," he glanced at his twin, "have to do everything Muggle, too."

"Sasha can't wait to learn a levitating spell, so that he could pick his toys without bending his lazy back," Pavel teased his younger brother; who stuck out his tongue at him.

"I'll get you a proper crash-course to house-keeping charms," Kolya promised Harry.

Kolya hadn't promised in vain, Harry found. He learned five more charms and spells, and he was practically able to clean everything after meals, starting with the dishes and finishing with scrubbing the floor. All of that with just a few words and waves with his wand. Harry remembered regrettably all his slaving at the Dursleys. He wondered if he would spend summer with them again. Well, a half of summer. The day he was an adult, was the day he would leave them and never come back. He had promised that to himself long ago.

"Andy said you would like to see the pictures I took in Africa. Do you want to look at them tonight?" Kolya offered.

Harry was torn. He would love to see the pics, and it would be a splendid way to end the day. On the other hand, it seemed that the majority of things was done in the living room, so there was a big probability that Snape would sit there too, annoying Harry by his mere presence, not to mention his inevitable mean remarks.

In the end, Harry decided to give it a go. He couldn't let Snape spoil everything for him. "I would love that, thanks." He answered. He crossed his fingers for the chance that Kolya would show him the photo-album in his room.

No such luck.

Kolya led Harry to the living room, where he took out a thick album out of a bookcase, and sent his twin for a box of transparencies. All the Snapes apparently decided it was a good time to relive their memories from the holiday.

The following two hours were spent in dimness, moving pictures projected on a big white screen. They varied between the Muggle and Wizarding sights, landscapes, animals, flora, and members of the family. All six of the boys were relating the stories, and names of the sights, sometimes with a piece of history behind it.

"The fortress was really breath-taking, their wizards must have been great! And it's as old as 5th century!"

"We couldn't get Dad out of this herbs market."

"Check this Muggle scubba-diving we tried. It was fun!"

"We left five pounds of carrots for this baby elephant!"

"I liked rhinos more than elephants!"

"Cairo was interesting but I would never want to live there."

"This is from the family house of Dad's Potion Master fellow. His older kid was four, as our babies."

"We're not babies!"

Chris sometimes pointed something that her sons forgot to tell. Snape was blissfully silent. He seemed content in his role of a pet husband, holding Chris' hand and his own arm possessively over her shoulder. Harry nearly forgot the foul man was there, and he enjoyed himself immensely. He promised himself that if he survived the war, he would treat himself - and Hermione, of course – with a fair share of travelling.


	3. December 23rd

December 23rd

"Hi, Harry, you look tired," Chris greeted him in the living room on his way to the kitchen.

Harry was surprised to see her up. It wasn't even 6 a.m. Even the 'babies' were still asleep. "Good morning. I woke up early," he mumbled. It was just a part of the truth. A nightmare had woken him about two hours ago and he never got back to sleep. Instead, he started writing a letter to Hermione, which was probably the stupidest and sappiest thing to do, considering that he wasn't allowed to mention anything interesting in it, or even send it.

Chris wasn't a mother of six for nothing, though. "And when did you go to sleep?"

"Late," Harry admitted. "I wanted to try some basic mental exercises from the book you lent me." Again, it was just a half-truth. Harry _did try_ the exercises. He didn't mention, however, what had prompted him to it. He didn't explain that he had come back to his room, and his good mood had been promptly ruined when he had seen the Occlumency books lying innocently on his bed where he had left them before dinner. He didn't describe to Chris the flare of hatefulness for her husband that he had felt. He didn't explain that the point of the exercises had been to teach himself to bury his hatred, and stay calm.

Chris nodded at him agreeably, "Your diligence is commendable. Don't forget to sleep, though."

"I won't, I promise," Harry felt his cheeks redden. A part of him felt bad for deceiving Chris by omission, but honestly, what could he say?

"Did you have a bad dream?" came the next question, surprising Harry.

"I- er- yes."

She nodded. "Boys of your age hardly ever wake up early per se," she explained. Then she kept looking at him expectantly.

Harry supposed she was waiting for him to share his nightmare. He fervently hoped she wouldn't ask about it, that she would let it slide. He didn't want to remember it, and even the less to voice it aloud. He had already told Hermione some of his most common nightmares - at her insisting that sharing would make them easier to deal with. He hadn't found relief, though, and he had felt bad when Hermione started crying over the dreams.

And Chris _did_ let it go. "If you decide you want to talk about it, I am here. If it becomes a problem, come for a Dreamless Sleep," she told him simply.

Harry nodded. He felt immensely grateful. By the way Chris' expression changed, he understood that his face conveyed it clearly.

"Go on, have some breakfast," she dismissed him, and went to the unobtrusive door that Harry knew led downstairs.

Harry obediently continued his way to the kitchen. Another shock awaited for him. Snape was sitting at the table, buttering a toast. He must have heard every word of Harry's exchange with Chris. And the more, Snape was alone with Harry, which he might use as an opportunity for an attack. Damn.

"Good morning," Harry mumbled, thinking about fleeing back to the guest room. Then he braced himself. This was bound to happen sooner or later. He sat down at his usual spot and poured himself a cup of black tea from a glass teapot. He suddenly realised Snape's presence enraged him nowhere near as much as Occlumency books. It didn't make any sense, and Harry wondered if he was mental.

"Morning," Snape answered dryly.

Harry had the feeling the man was looking at him, but as he refused to look anywhere near the Potions Master, Harry couldn't be sure. He helped himself with a bowl of yogurt, adding a generous amount of honey. He had liked it yesterday, and was glad to see it was a fixed part of breakfasts.

Harry tried to follow the advice of his most successful Occlumency exercise so far – to keep his mind in a state it had been on a recent pleasantly calm occasion. Harry tried to keep his mind as peaceful as it felt when skiing by himself in the garden. It had worked quite nicely last night, but now it was no help.

He ate nervously, waiting for the axe to fall. What the hell was Snape doing up at this hour?

Snape pushed away his plate, and poured himself something out of a pot. Coffee. Harry could smell it quite distinctly. Snape added sugar and stirred it. Harry felt holes being burnt in the side of his head.

"Bad dreams, Potter?" Snape asked mockingly. Or, maybe not mockingly. Harry wasn't sure. Amusedly?

Harry shrugged. He knew Snape hated the gesture, but did it really matter? Snape hated anything Harry did.

Snape took in a harsh breath. After a pause he spoke coldly, but not as hatefully as Harry would have expected. "My wife has six children to take care of, Potter. I would appreciate if you didn't add to her worries."

_I didn't ask to be here! _Harry shouted at him in his head. _I couldn't know she would ask about my sleep!_

"Yes, sir," he said aloud, scooping quickly the rest of the yogurt into his mouth, his tea unfinished. He quickly stuffed the bowl and cup into the sink and left the kitchen. He supposed his hasty retreat was undignified, but honestly, he didn't care.

On his way through the living room Harry, once more, encountered Chris. She was levitating several neat piles of clothes.

"Harry," She smiled at him. "This is yours." The smallest pile of laundered clothes navigated to Harry. He held out his hands.

Harry thanked her and realised that Snape was right. He was bringing more work on Chris. Work which she definitely didn't need. He looked at her helplessly. "Thank you," he repeated. "Is it difficult to clean clothes? Can I learn a spell for it?"

Chris beamed at him. "It's not a problem for me to clean them for you," She assured him. "I like to see that you strive for independence, though. I will gladly teach you the needed spells, or you can ask Andrei or Kolya. I already taught them everything to run a household."

"I will ask them," Harry nodded. "Is there any book on basic household charms and spells?"

"Turning bookish, Potter?" the hated voice drawled from behind him.

Harry froze. He bit down a sharp retort. He shrugged, knowing that both the gesture and the fact that Harry hadn't bothered to turn around and look at him would piss Snape off. Harry was pretty sure that Snape wouldn't hex him with Chris present, so he might as well enjoy being insolent.

"Of course there are books like that. I will lend you one later," Chris said with a reproving glance pointed behind Harry's back. Harry smirked inwardly.

"Which reminds me," she added after a second, "that I should go and find you a pair of swimming trunks."

"I would rather stay here, if you don't mind," Harry said in a spur of the moment. Water parks were probably big fun, and Harry had never visited one yet. However, a scowling Snape throwing nasty remarks would suck any pleasure from the best aqua park in the world. Besides that, Harry would have to admit that he didn't have any Muggle money, and they would have to pay for him. Harry didn't want to be indebted to Snape of all people.

"Are you sure?" Chris appeared most surprised. "Are you feeling well?"

"I'm okay, really." Harry assured her hastily, hyper-aware of the wizard standing behind him. "I just want to think, and maybe start my homework."

Snape snorted.

Chris looked at Harry doubtfully. She didn't seem to know what to do. "If you are sure. But there will be other days when we won't be able take you with us – when we go visit friends. Today, you could have fun."

"No, really. I'll stay." Harry persuaded. "I can cook lunch, if you want."

"We'll eat outside," Snape said quickly. Harry felt like rolling his eyes_. As if I would poison seven nice people just to get to one old wanker._

"We'll be leaving about half past nine. Maybe you could go and rest, and then you can decide." Chris offered. Harry was sure she knew he didn't want to go because of Snape. The man himself had to know it too. No one wanted to bring that fact out in the open, though.

"Okay," he agreed, though he already knew he wouldn't change his mind.

"I better find my house still standing, Potter," Snape threatened.

_He was taking his chance in case he hadn't the opportunity later, _Harry thought. It was rather funny, how similar Snape was to Aunt Petunia. Harry remembered her saying in her unpleasant pinched voice on countless occasions, "We can never leave the boy alone, we would find the house in ruins." Or, "the ungrateful boy would tear the house down if he got a chance." If Snape thought this would set Harry off, he was sadly mistaken.

"Yes, sir," he answered blandly, and started toward the stairs.

Once upstairs he slowed. He hoped Chris would tell Snape off. It would make Harry's day. Or at least it would compensate a little for his awful morning, he amended.

"You keep aggravating him, Severus," Chris rebuked gently.

"He's just pretending to be a victim for your sake," Snape complained. "At school, he keeps mouthing back."

"You started it, though, haven't you," she asked knowingly. "I've never seen a teenage boy leave breakfast so fast."

"He's insolent," Snape insisted. "He has to be kept in line or he will walk over our heads in no time."

"No boy ever walked over my head, and Harry won't either," Chris informed her husband carelessly. Harry believed her every word, though. "From what I've seen he wants to fit in, and not to impose on us."

"He's playing you," Snape explained. Harry suddenly realised that Snape believed in what he said. He was firmly convinced that Harry was a villain.

"Well, he's playing me well, then," Chris answered in a bit sharper tone, "because at the moment I see a polite boy who sacrifices an aqua park just not to aggravate his _uncharitable _host."

Bingo! Harry grinned. This was music that sounded wonderful to his ears. He knew, of course, that Chris would never be able to persuade her husband to change his opinion on Harry. He was happy, though, that she didn't adopt Snape's opinion on him automatically.

"Potter- "

"Didn't want to be here in the first place," Chris cut him off. "Dumbledore dumped him here without even assuring him that his family was alright."

Harry didn't hear anything, so either Snape didn't respond at all, or too softly to make out. He supposed that Snape might get suspicious that he hadn't heard Harry shut the door. Harry quickly reached the guest room and made sure that he closed the door inaudibly.

xxx

Harry kept his decision and stayed in the house. It was silent, and peaceful, and Harry didn't regret staying behind. He decided to start his transfiguration essay. If McGonagall joined them in a few days, Harry might ask her about something he didn't understand. And besides, Snape might inquire if Harry kept his word and started with schoolwork.

Harry found that he understood the topic quite well, better than the transfiguration of magical gemstones that they had been studying during autumn. By three p.m., when he heard the family returning, he had his essay finished. And more, he managed to reread all his transfiguration notes and essays, and used the opportunity to practise the incantations.

Harry stretched with a deep feeling of satisfaction. He wondered if he should go and greet the Snapes. He didn't really want to because there would be Snape; and also he might start to regret not going to the water park when he saw their happy faces. If he stayed in, however, they might think he was sulking.

In the end, he went to the living room.

They did look very happy and relaxed – with the exception of Snape, who couldn't look happy any more than a dementor could, of course – but Harry to his relief found that his good feeling of accomplishment didn't leave him.

"Hi, Harry," Mark – well, Harry was nearly sure it was Mark and not Sasha, said, "It was big fun, there were toboggans and slides and we tried everything!"

"Nearly everything," Eduard corrected him. "Some of the slides were too big for you."

The babies stuck out their tongues.

"Let's have a snack," Andy, the peacemaker, proposed.

Everyone moved to the kitchen obediently, sans Chris who went to dispose of swimming suits and wet towels. Harry's stomach rumbled. He had only grabbed yogurt and an apple from the fridge for lunch. He didn't want to waste time, and also he was too lazy to cook just for himself.

"We bought lots of fruit in a Muggle supermarket," Mark informed him with – according to Harry – inappropriate joy. What child enthused over fruit?

"Don't you like fondue?" Mark asked him. He had apparently awaited a more cheerful reaction from Harry.

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, to mask the way he stared at the kid blankly. He heard about fondue, of course, it was a meal with cheese and bagels or something like that. Fruit dipped in cheese didn't sound all that exciting.

"You dip fruit into warm chocolate," Sasha explained with wide grin. Harry grinned back.

"First time?" Nicolay asked him with a sarcastic edge that differed him very much from his twin. Harry idly wondered which one of the boys Snape considered the most similar to him.

Harry shrugged. If he was in for teasing, so be it. He had seen a lot of teasing in the Burrow and a lot of graceful and less graceful responses to it.

With deliberate calmness, he said, "I see that I am in for a strong experience." He nodded towards the ten or so kinds of fruit Snape was unpacking and washing in the sink, and then to the cooker where chocolate was dissolving in three cauldron-like bowls.

"We have dark, milk, and white chocolate," Mark tugged on Harry's sleeve and practically dragged him to have a look.

Soon, they were feasting on the dessert. Its drawback, Harry reflected, was the chattiness that simply belonged to the savouring of the treat. Fortunately, the talk kept revolving around the water park. The boys remembered every slide and every scream someone uttered on them, and the 'babies' bragged about the advancement in swimming that they had made.

"What about your day?" Andy asked politely the question Harry anticipated and feared. He didn't want to talk about himself in front of Snape.

"It was okay," he said noncommittally. "I worked on my Transfiguration homework."

"Are you good at Transfiguration?" It was Pavel asking. Harry wondered why the boy should care. He decided he hated small talk.

"Not as good as I would like to be," he answered shortly. He tried to change the topic of conversation, "So, after an aqua park and a supermarket, you are going to try a Muggle cinema?"

"A Cinema _and _a Shopping center," Pavel corrected him and explained as if he didn't know Harry was Muggle-raised, "A Supermarket is just a big shop, but a Shopping Center is supposed to be like a village-ful of shops."

Harry didn't mind. Nobody was talking about him and that was what he aimed for.

Unfortunately, Snape was his usual bastard self, and asked _oh, so innocently,_ "How far did you get in your homework, Potter?"

"I finished it, sir," Harry informed him in equally innocent tone. It wouldn't do to gloat visibly, right? He supposed Snape would say something unsavoury about haste and lame results, but he didn't care.

Chris stepped in quickly, "That's commendable, Harry. I'm sure Minerva will be pleased."

Harry dared to hope it was the end of talk about his day.

"What's the theme of your potions homework?" Eduard asked with genuine interest.

_Curse all dotty potions fanatics!_ Harry groaned inwardly.

"We got to choose out of six healing potions, and we are supposed to tweak our chosen one," Eda, who must have been an even bigger potions geek than Harry had known, informed him happily. "I'm trying to find out an alternative to quinine in the Peletiere Mind-Stimulating Draugh."

"Quinine is the main component," Nicolay objected. "If you change it, it would be classified not as a variation to a potion, but a new one."

"Exactly," Eduard told him smugly. "Imagine, a new potion at the age of fourteen."

"Kolya invented a potion in summer. He even got an article in a potions magazine," Andy murmured to Harry.

"Or you will fail and become a first member of the family who got T for a Potions assignment." Kolya smirked at Eduard. Harry thought he was peeved that his younger brother would like to trump him.

Eda threw a grape at him.

"No throwing food!" Chris used a tone of voice Harry hadn't yet heard from her. He understood now why a boy never 'walked over her head'. "And no fighting at meals!"

"Sorry, mum," both of them mumbled.

"What's the theme of your potion homework, again?" Eduard got back to the – Harry had hoped forgotten for good – question. Harry felt like groaning.

"I dropped Potions," Harry said nonchalantly. Later he wondered why on Earth he could have hoped for a second that Snape would let him get away with it.

Snape cleared his throat in poignant way. "Potions dropped you, if anything, Potter."

_Bastard._

"I didn't get a good enough mark to continue the subject," Harry said, trying to keep his voice and expression carefully neutral.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

And after a minute Chris said kindly, "I'm going for a very short ski-trip with Sasha and Mark. Do you want to join us, Harry?"

Harry was pretty sure she wouldn't invite him if Snape was going, and so he smiled and accepted the invitation. Anything to avoid the foul man, and who cared if he was skiing as slowly as kids? He was only learning it for the second day.

Skiing was fun, and dinner was quite peaceful. Snape and Kolya were engaged into a Potions discussion, something about Kolya's experimenting with a potion. The babies were waiting with commendable patience for at least a quarter an hour, but then they demanded their dad's attention. Snape had no time to strike at Harry, to his relief.

After dinner, Harry confined himself to his room. He planned on some lighter reading and an early night. He decided to read on in a Defence book that Hermione had checked for him out of the Hogwarts library, _Potent, Dangerous, and Still Light Combat Spells._

A knock on his door sounded.

"Yes?" he invited, and got up from the bed on which he was sprawled on his belly, thanking fortune that he hadn't changed to his oversized pajama bottoms and the walrus-sized t-shirt yet. He guessed it would be Chris or Andy.

He guessed right.

"Hi," Andy said a bit hesitantly. He glanced around the room. Harry kept nearly everything in his trunk, though. He didn't feel at home under Snape's roof, so he didn't see point in making the room look homey. "Am I intruding?"

"No," Harry assured him. He didn't want Andrei to feel unwelcome. "I'm just reading." He waved his hand towards the bed. "There's always too much going on during the school year, so there's not much time for reading."

"Mum said to give you this book," Andrei handed him a book on household charms.

"Thanks," Harry stepped to the door to take it.

"You surely take it seriously," Andy said lightly. "Planning on starting your own house soon?"

"August 1st," Harry answered in an equal tone of voice, leaving it up to Andy to believe him or not. "And also, I'll need some cover story as to how I learned those charms when presumably I'm spending the holidays in a Muggle house."

The other boy nodded. Hesitantly, he asked, "can I come in?"

"Sure," Harry waved him in, glad that he would have some distraction. Some light conversation with the easy-going teenager, just to forget for a moment how unwanted and hated by Snape he was.

"What are you reading?" Andy's eyes fell on the book on Harry's bed. When told, he whistled. "Yeah, you said you are into defense. Maybe we could have some practice tomorrow?"

"On Christmas Day?" Harry grinned. "Wouldn't Chris object?"

Andy laughed, "Probably. Okay, let's leave it for the days after."

"How good at Defense you are?" Harry asked hesitantly. He hoped Andy was capable enough to be a good opponent, but not as good as to make Harry a laughing stock for the whole Snape family. He didn't doubt they would have an audience. Harry suddenly realised he might have sounded fearful, and added with a grin, "It wouldn't do if I found myself knocked out and then found you were the substitute DADA teacher when your mum falls ill."

"I'm not that good!" Andy laughed heartily, "I fight well enough, though. I have the strongest talent for Defense of us four. But I'll probably become a Curse Breaker, not a teacher. Or maybe I'll work with wards. Wards are awfully interesting, too."

Harry thought about it. He knew that Bill Weasley worked as a Curse Breaker for Gringotts. "So, you would let yourself be hired by Gringotts or some such and create wards for them?"

"Well, that, or I would be a freelancer. Letting myself to be hired by anyone who needed to create or strenghten wards. I could be a freelance curse breaker at the same time. More fun."

Harry wondered, "How do they know they can trust you?" He couldn't imagine letting a stranger, who might have any political connections, ward his property. Or even if he was a honest guy, someone could blackmail or threaten him. Definitely not. Harry regarded warding as something crucial, something that needed to be done by himself or by his closest friends.

"I would be bound by a work-oath, of course," Andy seemed to be surprised by his question. "It's a standard procedure. And besides, a lot of complicated wards that people need help with rely on blood or a secret keeper, whose name the warder doesn't know, so..." he trailed off.

Harry nodded his understanding. He enjoyed their chat, but he had a feeling that Andy came to his room for a reason, not just to talk. Harry didn't know how to get Andy to talk about the purpose. He wasn't sure he wanted to get Andy to talk about it.

The dark haired boy had that odd insightfulness, though. As if he could hear Harry's thoughts, he asked softly, "Did you and Dad have an argument this morning?"

Harry shrugged.

"I've heard Mum telling him he should go and ask you about going to the water park," Andy explained with shrug of his own. "The way she said 'you' was rather a give-away."

Harry looked away. _What to say to that? Andrei, the peace-maker. What he wanted to hear?_

_Of course._

"Sorry, I don't want to make a stir in your family," he apologised flatly. "I would leave here if I could."

_There. He was the bigger man. He could have ranted about Snape provoking him, __and shared some Hogwarts stories. _Instead, he apologised without having to – which was a tactic, Hermione had told him – used by Japanese people. Presumably, it threw the opponent off balance.

It worked. Andy looked somewhere between ashamed and scandalised. "You misunderstand me. I don't want you to feel unwelcome."

"I know," Harry assured him. "Everything would be much worse without you. Or Chris," he said honestly. Suddenly, he realised that if Snape hadn't had a family, Harry would be stuck alone with the foul man! He shuddered.

"So what now?" Andy asked. "You can't spend the holiday cooped here all the time except for meals."

Harry didn't mean to stay locked in. He should tell so to the other boy, but for some whim of his mind he said only, "Why not?"

"It would be like a prison," Andy once again sounded scandalised.

Harry had to fight the urge to laugh. For having Snape as a father, and for attending a school that had a dark reputation, Andrei was still so laughably innocent. Harry remembered his life with the Dursleys where three square meals a day - even if with a bit strained conversation - sounded like paradise.

"I'll be going outside," he assured Andy. He felt a bit guilty for playing with the boy. "I'll just keep out of Snape's reach as much as possible." _And hope that it'll be enough,_ he added inwardly.

Two dark eyes studied him thoughtfully. With a hint of disappointment Andy promised, "We will engage him in as many whole day trips as possible, and sometimes I'll stay behind with you."

Harry felt surge of gratitude towards the other boy. "I'll be glad to have company. I'm good on my own too, though, and I know you want to spend time with your- Snape." Harry finished lamely. The word 'Father' refused to pass his lips.

Andy grinned at him. "I think I'll manage both." Then he changed the topic. "Where would you go for the holiday, if it was up to you? Not as if I wanted you to leave," he added hastily.

Harry shrugged. "To my girlfriend's parents, I guess. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't mind." The Grangers had written him a few warm letters, from which Harry deduced that they preferred him to Ron. Especially after he shared with them that he pondered leaving the wizarding world when he was no longer needed for the war efforts, and living in the Muggle world instead.

"Or maybe my friend's house," he remembered Neville. "We would practise defence together, and I would learn bunches about Herbology. His family's magical, so we would get away with using magic," he explained to Andrei.

"And your girlfriend is not?" Andy asked curiously.

"Magic? She's a witch, but her parents are Muggles," Harry shared. He didn't thing Andy would mind.

"My girlfriend, Eva, she's from a pureblood family. I wish she was a Muggleborn instead," Andy shared in exchange.

"Why?" Harry asked the question that was practically obligatory.

Andy frowned. "They are so horribly tied in their traditions. They have rules for everything. They _talk _into everything, and they'll keep doing so even after she's an adult."

"I don't know much about pureblood traditions," Harry admitted.

"Be glad," Andy sighed. "They have rules what I can give her as a present, and what blood is good enough to bring into family, how much I have to earn weekly before we marry, how our children will be named." He rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "I think we'll have to elope before it suffocates us."

"Wards will come handy, then," Harry joked, and earned good laugh from the other boy.

Harry yawned. "Sorry," he apologised, embarrassed. "I woke up awfully early."

Andy got up, and grinned, "Good night, then. Don't forget that tomorrow is the traditional Christmas chocolate making. I hope you are not afraid that Dad will drown you in a cauldron."

Harry yawned again. "Snape only attacks when we're alone," he said absentmindedly. Then his brain caught up with his mouth. "Er- sorry."

Andy looked at him sadly. "That's okay. Tomorrow evening is the unwrapping of the presents, so we don't have to wait till the morning." With that, the teenager left.

It seemed that the Snapes had a lot of weird traditions, Harry thought. On the other hand, it meant that they could sleep in on December 25th.

He was lying in his bed soon, wishing for Hermione, for her warm hands and the bush of her hair smelling faintly of her flowery conditioner.


	4. December 24th

**December 24th**

Harry was woken up in the middle of the night by a nightmare. Luckily, he managed to fall asleep again after looking through his photo album. The rest of the night was spent restfully.

Harry woke up to the babies' screaming "Chocolate! Let's brew chocolate!"

He found out it was already 7 o'clock. He dressed, and walked leisurely to the bathroom. He wished he was with Hermione, but he decided not to let it ruin his day. After all, he had the present that Hermione had given him before they left the Gryffindor Tower. It had been teasing Harry's curiosity ever since. He didn't doubt that there was a book hidden in the dark red paper with golden ribbon. Hermione had a knack for good books, and Harry was so curious what she had picked for him.

He pondered the matter whilst he brushed his teeth and combed – uselessly – his hair. Feeling hungry he hurried back to his room to leave toiletries. On his way he got intercepted by Snape.

"Potter, a word."

Harry waited, not bothering with a 'Good morning'.

Snape's lip curled unpleasantly. "I have a proposal for you, Potter. Don't intrude in our family tradition this morning, and I will leave you alone this evening."

Harry was shocked speechless. Snape was forbidding him to be with his family, confining him to 'prison' as his own son had called it. Harry only now realised how much he wanted to participate in chocolate making. The Dursleys were pretty lame when it came to Christmas cheeriness. For them all point of the holiday was to stuff themselves sick with the best food. And, of course, to get the best and the most expensive presents, in Dudley's case. For aunt Petunia, the most important things were the _outside_ decorations outshining the ones of the neighbours.

Snape grew impatient with Harry's unresponsiveness and threatened. "I can make your stay here a most unpleasant one."

And Snape could, Harry knew.

Harry only nodded his consent, turned on his heel and headed for his room. He felt humiliated on a deep level, and he wasn't even sure why. Snape was a bastard, what else was new?

The door on his right opened, Pavel's head appearing from within. Harry wondered if the boy had heard the exchange; his humiliation deepened at the possibility.

Harry more fell than laid down on his bed. He was hungry, but he didn't feel like going down for breakfast anymore. _Yes,_ he decided, _it was easier not to show up at all, than to make false excuses later._

Harry started digging through his trunk. He was sure there were some sweets from the last Hogsmeade Saturday. Soon, he was feasting on a bar of Honeydukes chocolate. He wasn't enjoying the exquisite taste as much as he usually did.

Now that he woke up from his shocked stupor, he knew he should have argued with Snape. There would be just gifts opening in the evening. Harry had Hermione's present in his trunk, and he planned to unwrap it alone, not in front of Snape, thank you very much. He wasn't going to get any other presents until he got back to Hogwarts. What was the point of sitting with a family not his own and watching them open their wonderful presents?

Harry should have bargained with Snape to be allowed to come to make chocolate in exchange to the evening event. _Well, too late,_ he thought morosely.

Harry got up again and dug out his present from Hermione. In a spur of the moment, he decided to open it now. Who cared if he waited one more day?

He carefully unwrapped it. The wrapping paper revealed a book, reading _'Foreign Curses & Hexes Fitting in English Hand'_. Harry gently ran his hand over the cover. The title sounded intriguing. He opened it randomly, skimming through the pages. The book was divided into sections by continent, and later by countries from where the spells originated. Harry recognised hardly any curse or hex mentioned. He smiled. It was perfect. Unusual hexes were unexpected by an opponent, and thus gave one a handy advantage. The curses were followed by its counter-curse, or a block, or sometimes a potion curing the damage inflicted. Harry turned the pages back, so that he started reading from the prologue. A sheet of parchment fell out.

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed, recognising at once Hermione's script.

_Dear Harry,_

_Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year! I hope you will like my present. I'm looking forward to learning those curses and hexes, and their contra, with you and __from__ you – because I don't doubt you will master them sooner than me._

_I miss you. Love,_

_Your Hermione._

Harry smiled sappily, and began reading the new book. Some time later, a knock sounded.

"Yes?" Harry called resignedly. He suspected it was someone fetching him to join the others in the kitchen.

Andy's dark head peeked in, "Mum asks if there's a reason why you didn't come for breakfast."

_Yup, her darling husband,_ Harry thought. He shrugged.

"I'm not hungry," he answered, not lying. The chocolate was rich, and was warming his stomach pleasantly.

"You must be, if you weren't down for breakfast," Andy pointed out logically.

"Food in my trunk," Harry explained curtly. His mind frantically and in vain tried to bring up a neat solution for this situation.

"You bring food to your relatives' house?" Andy asked curiously.

_I would if they wouldn't confiscate the whole trunk immediately,_ Harry grimaced. Aloud he said just, "Chocolate."

"Oh," Andy grinned, "it's good enough for me, but I don't think mum will be satisfied."

Harry wondered what he should do. If he went to eat, Chris would be expecting him to stay for their 'chocolate brewing'. He didn't feel like lying because of Snape, and he didn't think the sour man would forgive him if he told on him. He stared at Andy helplessly.

Andy invited himself in, and sat on the chair he had occupied the previous day.

"Is it something with Dad?" he inquired knowingly.

Harry looked away and shrugged.

"You know," Andy observed, "the first day I thought you were different. You didn't want to hide in my room, and you faced Dad instead."

"I'm not a coward!" Harry informed him angrily.

"I didn't say- "

"Do you think the babies would appreciate a shouting match?" Harry interrupted him. "And Chris would appreciate it? On Christmas?"

"Of course not, but there has to be a middle ground- "

"There isn't," Harry cut him off again. "There's no middle ground between us."

"If you tried," Andy paused at Harry's furious gaze. "_You both_, I mean," he clarified hastily.

Harry used the pause Andy made to cut him off for the third time. "Give it up, Andy," he said with forced calm. "Give it up, and stop trying to mix ice and fire."

Andy studied him for a moment, then he nodded tersely, got up, and left.

Harry wondered if he just lost a friend. A friend he was ill afford losing.

He stood up and went to a mirror that hung near the window. His face was pale with two angry spots on his cheeks. He studied his green eyes, and felt lost. For the first time ever, he wished he was back at the Dursleys' instead. If nothing else, there were no innocent bystanders there.

Where the hell were the Dursleys?

His good mood had been spoiled twice already, and it wasn't even 10 o'clock in the morning. He got back to his book, but his heart wasn't in it anymore.

If only he could leave. And maybe he could, couldn't he? After all, who would look for him in Russia, of all places?

If only he had some Muggle money.

Harry decided that he needed some fresh air to think. He put on his borrowed clothes – it was another thing he would need if he left here and stayed in Russia. He hoped to slip through the living room without being noticed. No such luck.

"Harry," Chris smiled at him from the kitchen's door. "Changed your mind?"

"Not really," Harry said at a loss, "I'm going to practice skiing in the garden. If it's alright with you."

Chris looked at him, hesitating. Her smile faded. Her expression was still kind, but sad. Well, at least she wasn't angry with Harry for his being ungrateful.

"It's alright," she answered slowly. "I would like to talk to you later, though. Is after lunch in my workroom acceptable?"

"Er- Yes, sure. I wanted to talk to you too," Harry decided to believe Chris genuinely wanted to _talk_ to him, not to _tell him off._

Harry shuffled on his skis, making slow rounds on the inner side of the fence. He forbade himself thinking about the happy family inside. Instead he kept forming his tentative plan.

Harry was feeling cold for some time, but he was unwilling to go back inside. He cast another warming charm on himself. He didn't feel much better. Harry wondered why his charm didn't work as well as Chris'. Maybe it was result of much more practise, He decided, and cast another one, frowning at the unholy cold of Russia. Harry liked a nice 'real' winter as any other bloke, but this was too much. He puffed a big cloud of mist to make his point and started another round around the garden.

Finally, Harry couldn't take the cold anymore and he headed back inside. He cleaned his borrowed skis diligently of snow, and left them in the shack. When he exited it, he nearly collided with one of the middle twins.

"How many rounds did you make? Is there any snow left or are there patches of grass behind you?" the boy teased.

Harry grinned, "Patches of ice more likely. Cold like this makes me wish for spring." He shivered. "Sorry, need to get de-frozen."

"De-frozen!" Pavel laughed. "You have yet see winter at its worst."

Harry shuddered over-dramatically, "No, thanks."

He headed to the house, hoping for nothing else but a big cup of hot sweet tea. He sat down to unfasten his ski boots. The door from the living room opened as someone stepped into the hall. Harry hoped it wasn't Snape.

No such luck.

"Potter."

_God, how he hated that silky voice._

Harry didn't bother to face Snape, and continued to unwrap the ice-covered fastening with his aching fingers.

"It's basic politeness to face the person talking to you," Snape informed him icily.

_You talk about politeness, git! _

With anger helping him, Harry finally managed to take the boot off. Now the second one.

"Especially, when you meet your superior." Snape continued his monologue, in which Harry had no wish to participate.

_Superior, my ass!_

The second boot didn't seem to be so frozen. Or maybe Harry should have just waited a few minutes before unfastening them?

"Of course, you've always been a mannerless brat." Snape informed Harry's back, his voice even colder and more cutting.

_Drop dead!_ Harry thought uncharitably. _Stupid Christmas with stupid Snape who can't stay away and pollute air someplace else! _

Harry finally got rid of the boots, and gratefully slipped his tired legs in his borrowed slippers. He got up and faced Snape. It was about time, he guessed, judging Snape's livid face. He was pretty sure Snape wouldn't hex him, because he wouldn't get away with it with Chris. It wouldn't do to push Snape so much that he wouldn't even remember that his wife would object, though.

Harry looked at the hated wizard. He looked into his dark eyes, not caring if Snape used Legilimency. Their animosity was past hiding, at least as far as Harry was concerned.

"I have a deal, sir," he informed firmly the older wizard, who looked taken aback, "beneficial to us both."

Snape raised an eyebrow, and curled his upper lip derisively. Harry translated it as indication that Snape was willing to listen, but knew already he would hear meaningless nonsense.

"I want to move to a hotel," Harry informed him. "I need you to lend me some Muggle Russian money. I'll pay you back in cash back at Hogwarts."

Snape stared at him as if Harry sprouted a second head.

"What?" Harry asked, irritated. "You want me gone, I want to be gone. What's the problem?"

"Dumbledore- "

"Doesn't have to know," Harry stepped in. He didn't cut Snape off – he wasn't suicidal – just used a pause Snape made. "You can pick me up on your way back to England."

Snape still stared at him, as if he saw him for the very first time. It seemed he didn't know what to think. He found his stance swift enough, though. "You are playing martyr, Potter," the man accused. "It's disgusting."

"I'm not playing," Harry informed him flatly. He could see that this all was just heading to an unproductive argument.

_Damn it! What to say to persuade the cold-hearted bastard? Only, he wasn't so cold-hearted, was he, with his family._

"Chris doesn't deserve this," Harry decided to play on the family card. "She's great. She's really... great about everything." Harry repeated hopelessly. He expected every second that Snape would pick on his lack of eloquence. _Hell, he didn't know how to express feelings like this!_ "She deserves a peaceful Christmas. With you and I fighting she's not getting it. I'm adding to her worries, just like you said, and it's not fair to her," he finished lamely.

Snape was silent. Suddenly, Harry had a strange feeling. It felt like Snape had listened to him – really _listened_ - for the first time ever. He shook his head. He was going found he couldn't stand this odd talk any more. It was time to test if Snape had _heard_.

"Will you lend me the money?"

"No, Potter," Snape answered slowly. "I'm not lending you money. And you are not going to any hotel."

Harry fumed. "Why the hell not?"

To his surprise Snape didn't call him on the foul language. "Because Chris would never agree to it. Because it would be less safe than for you to stay here. Because Minerva is coming in three days, and Albus certainly informed her about the situation," Snape listed calmly. "Should I continue?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. He was suspicious about the lack of sarcasm in Snape's answer.

"I would be safe enough. Professor McGonagall knows we hate each other," he countered. "So, if I persuade Chris, you will agree?"

"And how are you going to persuade her?" Snape inquired silkily. "By listing a list of my wrongdoings, real or alleged?"

_Oh! Snape was afraid?_ To be honest, Harry was most surprised Snape admitted any wrongdoings.

"Is this the place where I lay conditions for my confidentiality?" he asked, sounding to himself more tired than sarcastic. "I'm not a Slytherin, alright? I'm unhappy and I want out. Everyone will be satisfied. Why can't you see that?"

Harry realised this was the longest talk ever between them, and they even weren't shouting. Miracles happen on Christmas Eve, it seemed.

"A deal can be agreed upon," Snape paused, probably expecting Harry to ask about his offer.

"I love your deals. _Potter, stay hidden under your bed, and I won't make your life a hell._" Harry was aware that he completely failed to imitate Snape's baritone.

"Stop being a drama queen," the man looked more amused than angry. "We will simply ignore each other."

"Because it has worked so well so far," Harry pointed out.

"It will work now," Snape answered with finality. "Now, if you excuse me, I need to prepare myself for skiing." He went to retrieve his ski boots.

"I didn't say I accepted the deal." Harry was disappointed. He still hoped he will persuade Chris. Maybe she would lend him the money.

"As if you did." Snape turned back to him. "You can tell Chris things I wouldn't want her to know, and maybe even make her angry with me. You will be not ever able to persuade her to let you leave. Trust me, I've been married to her for nearly eighteen years. You won't persuade her."

Harry was taken aback. Snape had admitted weakness, which was unheard of. Snape was talking without malice, which was odd. Also, the wizard sounded honest, as much as it meant with a Slytherin. But somehow, his words rang true. In that moment, Harry _knew_ the man was right.

"Bother!" he cursed.

Snape smirked at him, and left, letting icy air in through the door. Harry shivered, and remembered he wanted to have some tea. When he opened the door, his nose was immediately attacked by the smell of chocolate. Harry could feel his mouth watering.

The living room was empty. Thank Merlin! Harry belatedly realised everyone might have heard them. He should have put a silencing charm on the door. Or Snape should have. Maybe Snape _had_ charmed the door, Harry realised. The man was a spy, after all, practised in secretive ways. And undoubtedly, Snape hadn't wanted his wife to hear him picking on their guest. Harry shook his head. It didn't matter.

He found Chris cleaning the kitchen. "Hi," he said shyly. "I thought I would make myself a pot of tea."

"Go ahead," Chris smile at him. "I would offer you some chocolate, but I have to insist on you having a proper breakfast first."

"Er- sure," Harry agreed, realising he was quite hungry. Cold yogurt didn't sound very appealing at that moment. "Can I make myself some toasts?"

"That's my boy," Chris approved, and gave the last glance to the – now pristine, at least in Harry's eyes – kitchen. She waved one more charm over the floor. "I think that will do," she decided. To Harry, she added, "I forgot to tell you that lunch will be late, because everyone tasted so much chocolate, and chocolate on biscuits. Make sure you eat enough to last till about two o'clock."

"Thanks," Harry paused on his way to fridge, and looked at her. She looked back, calmly. Harry would like to explain to her how much her caring meant to him, but then again, there were things teenage boys simply didn't say.

"Also, I realised," Chris continued, oblivious to his musings, "that it would be better if we talked now, instead of after lunch. The meal is usually longer, and then shortly afterwards we will unwrap presents."

Harry nodded, "Andy told me."

"Make your toast and add some tea for me, please, and then we talk," she smiled, and left the room. Harry could hear her climbing the stairs, and calling for Sasha and Mark.

Harry was already eating his second toast when 'the babies' accompanied by Andy walked through the living room, and continued to the hall. Chris came shortly afterwards, sat across the table, took the cup Harry had prepared for her, and looked at him seriously.

"You said you wanted to talk to me about something. Do you want to start?"

Harry shook his head. "I thought I would move to a hotel for a few days, but I realised you wouldn't agree," he said sheepishly.

"I wouldn't," she confirmed with finality. "I don't think I could live with myself if I let a child – or young man," she added, probably thinking Harry would bristle at being referred as a child. "To be driven away from my home by my own husband's abuse."

Now Harry bristled. He hated the word. "I'm not abused," he informed her firmly.

"Bullied, then."

A bully, Snape was. Harry couldn't dispute with that. He took a sip of his tea, and thought about his next words.

"Look- " he paused, still unsure how to express himself, "I don't like Snape, and he doesn't like me. Dumbledore never thinks about that when- " he paused again. He nearly talked about the Dursleys! He tried again, "I understand Snape, okay? I wouldn't be thrilled to have him in my house either. He lives without you most of the time, he expected a family Christmas, and now I'm standing in his way."

"You are rather emphatic for a boy of your age." Harry decided to take that as a compliment. "It also makes you more perceptive of Severus' treatment."

Really, why did women never understand how degrading their pity was?

"I can take care of myself. Don't pity me."

"I don't pity you. I want to discuss with you ways how to change the situation. And not by moving you elsewhere," she clarified. She tasted her tea, and got up to get herself some honey.

"Do you know why the Dursleys didn't pick me up?" Harry knew the chances were slim but he had to ask.

"Not yet. We decided to wait if Minerva would know. If not, we would make inquiries through her. It will be the safer way – she is the head of Gryffindor, and her interest won't be noticed," Chris elaborated.

Harry nodded. "It makes sense."

"Even if we find out, I doubt you will be moved from here before the end of the holiday," Chris warned him. "Every transport brings risk."

Harry nodded again. It wasn't as if he wanted to go to his stupid relatives, anyway.

"So, we need to find out the way you and Severus can cohabit without constant clashing," Chris informed him.

Harry wondered what she had in mind. He was pretty sure she wouldn't restrict him to the guest room. He couldn't imagine her locking Snape in their bedroom (or his lab?) either, though.

"Any thoughts?" Chris asked.

Harry shrugged. "Snape and I have just talked, and decided to ignore each other." He was aware he sounded doubtful.

"That's a start," she agreed. "I already asked Severus not to make any sarcastic remarks."

Harry looked at her sceptically.

"I ask you the same," she continued as if she didn't see his expression. When Harry nodded his assent, she continued, "I don't want you to seclude yourself. You are welcome to join us for any activity. It's holiday and I want you to have fun."

"Thanks. I'm sorry I complicate things," Harry said honestly. "Also, I would rather skip the presents opening, if you don't mind."

"You can't skip gifts opening," Chris objected immediately. "Who will unwrap your presents, if you do?"

"I won't have any," Harry explained. "I just got one in advance, and the rest I will get back at school."

"Bring the one you got, then," Chris ordered. "And wait if Santa brings you something."

"I don't believe in Santa," Harry objected.

Chris grinned at him mischievously. "The key question is – does Santa believe in you?" She finished her tea and got up. "Off with you, and don't forget, lunch at two o'clock."

Harry went up to his room, feeling defeated. He was sure Snape wouldn't be able to ignore him. Harry had been trying to go unnoticed since he came here, but it didn't work. And it sounded like Chris even got him a present, and of course Harry didn't have any presents for anyone. No way Snape would miss commenting on that.

He sighed. He tried to rewrap Hermione's book as neatly as possible. He left the letter in his trunk.

He sighed again, and then plopped down on his bed, deciding to read _Potent, Dangerous, and Still Light Combat Spells. _He was itching to try some of the spells. Maybe they could try those with Andy tomorrow morning…

Xxx

Harry was descending the stairs, clad in his school uniform – just trousers, white shirt, and tie, actually - feeling slightly nervous. He brought his rewrapped present and put it under the tree unobtrusively. The present promptly vanished. Harry blinked. Then he realised the area around the tree was spelled. He loved magic. Not for the first time, he regretted he hadn't been growing up in a magical household, meeting charms and spells on every step since he was born.

"Potter," Snape's voice made him jump. He realised he was staring at the tree, looking probably pretty daft. He prepared himself for an insult.

Miraculously, it never came.

"Professor," he answered, using the same – carefully neutral – voice as had the older wizard. He wanted to pass the man, heading to the kitchen. Snape stopped him with a gesture of his hand.

_What?_ Harry looked at him resignedly. He had known that this _'I'm going to ignore you'_ thing would never work. Snape simply couldn't let be.

"Did you want to move because of Chris or because of you, Potter?" Snape asked him seriously. Not maliciously, not suspiciously, not accusingly, just seriously. How odd.

Harry was taken aback. He shrugged. Why did that matter?

"Why?" he asked, not caring how suspiciously his voice sounded.

"I'm giving you the privilege of a doubt." Snape's response didn't make Harry any less suspicious.

Harry scoffed. Snape was growing a conscience? _A bit late, if you asked him. Five freaking years late._ "Both," he responded with another shrug.

"I see," Snape looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes. Harry felt like a bug being considered to be used in a potion or thrown away.

_Do you,_ Harry thought flatly. He didn't have to feign neutrality.

Middle twins and Andrei came to the stairs, descending, which thankfully put end to their weird conversation. Harry couldn't care less if the man thought he was a drama queen, a spoiled hero, an attention seeker, or a primadonna. He didn't want anything else of the foul git but to stay away from Harry as far as possible. _Another continent, if you will._

As if he heard him, Snape headed to the kitchen.

"Nice tie," Andy joked, bringing attention to Harry's attire.

"Gryffindor," Harry grinned, showing the red and gold colours with exaggerated pride. "The very best House."

"Why don't you wear matching trousers? It would bring out your legs," Andy laughed.

"My girlfriend doesn't like when others are ogling me," Harry grinned.

Together they entered the kitchen. The babies were already setting cutlery and napkins on a table – the first chore that Harry had seen them to do. Kolya was adding glasses and jugs of juice.

The meal was a rather relaxing one. The kids were exuberant, they couldn't wait to get their presents. Chris had to urge them to eat. Nobody had to ask Harry twice. They didn't have a turkey or pudding, but some strange half-cold potato salad and fried meat, wiener-schnitzel, as Chris named it. Harry had never eaten this before, and was enjoying a new taste.

If there weren't crackers in a bowl, one wouldn't recognise this as Christmas lunch, Harry mused.

Magical crackers were fun, of course. Harry had to bit his lip and pretend to cough when two tiny fairies flew out of Snape's cracker, spraying the sour man with a rain of glittering confetti.

"Okay, everyone," Chris ordered. "Everyone goes to find something for the orphanage, and then we'll look and see if Santa brought us some presents."

Mark and Sasha groaned.

"That's another tradition," Andy explained to Harry when they were climbing stairs. "We give up a toy or something we don't use anymore, and mum delivers it later to a nearby orphanage for magical kids. Presumably, it makes a place for the new things one will get. In reality, it's supposed to teach us compassion. You don't have to give anything, of course."

"I think I will," Harry said thoughtfully. He was pondering about the many things stashed in his trunk. He realised he should have gone through it and thrown away things a long time ago.

In the end, he found a small bar of chocolate, three chocolate frogs, the flute Hagrid had given him in his first year, a few white shirts that were too small for him and still appeared passable, four Mrs. Weasley's jumpers (he kept the one from last year), two Muggle fiction books (smuggled from Dudley's dustbin), his collection of Chocolate Frog cards (he decided he was too old to collect these), a Chudley Cannons t-shirt (from Ron), the rememberall Neville had given him in their first year, a snow globe, and a nearly full pack of owl treats that Hedwig didn't like.

Harry stopped in the middle of the stairs. He could see the piles of presents under the tree now. Even though, on the second look, the heap wasn't bigger than at the Dursleys, and here were eight Snapes sharing it.

"What's wrong with our Christmas tree?" Andy clapped his black good naturedly, "you are staring at it awfully hard."

"He's probably wondering if Santa brought him something," Kolya, full of Christmas cheer, joked. "Have you been a good boy, Harry?"

"I've heard Dad's giving you a few private Potions lessons as a gift, Harry," Pavel, who just reached them, announced brightly.

Harry turned towards him so fast that half of his tokens for the orphanage fell down the stairs.

Pavel doubled in a fit of laugh. "You should – ha ha – see your – ha ha – face!"

'The firsties' – how was sometimes Andy and Kolay called, whilst the middle twins were apparently 'the middles' – joined Pavel immediately.

"What's up? Why are you laughing like deranged people?" That was Eda. "You are blocking the stairs, by the way."

Harry didn't know if he should hit Pavel, or laugh. In the end he just shook his head in resignation, and started picking up his things that were littering the stairs.

Snape came out of the kitchen and picked up the rememberall that rolled the farthest. His gaze found Harry and the colourful jumpers. He gave them a disdainful frown (or maybe not to the jumpers but to Harry). "I'm afraid they could be traced back to you, Potter. Give them away in England," the wizard ordered and placed the rememberall into a cardboard box.

Harry stared at him. How paranoid could one get? Who on Earth would recognise his old clothes here, and track them back to Chris, and through her to Snape?

Harry shrugged. It wasn't worth arguing. Hermione would probably know some orphanage back home. "What about the shirts?" he asked.

"Give them here," Snape held out his shirt-clad hand. "I hope they are not signed."

"Not to my knowledge," Harry responded honestly, pushing his glasses up his nose. He had never really considered how the House-elves knew whose laundry they were doing.

Snape took out his wand from somewhere inside his sleeve. Whilst he was waving it in intricate patterns, occasionally murmuring something, Harry looked at him pensively. How could Snape take out something so quick through the tight cuffs? Or maybe he actually had the wand outside of the sleeve, and kept invisible? Harry guessed that maybe Snape was wearing one of the wand holsters that Harry wanted to try.

"They are clear," Snape decided. "Pass the rest."

Harry obediently handed Snape one thing after another, jerking a bit when Snape's hand brushed his. He couldn't remember touching Snape before. He was glad when it was over and he could go and collapse into one of the armchairs, grateful to God that the wizard hadn't commented on the tokens. But of course, Snape wouldn't, in the presence of his four sons.

Soon, they all were sitting in armchairs, and Harry realised Chris and the smallest Snapes were missing. He looked up to check the staircase.

"They won't be for a while," Andy noticed his glance. "The babies never want to give up any toys."

Harry nodded. He could understand that. He remembered his bellowed broken soldiers still hidden at the bottom of his school trunk. He didn't think he could ever give them away. Not as if someone would want them, old broken things, anyway.

There was silence. Harry felt uncomfortable. He was painfully aware of Snape. The man was making him nervous.

To his relief, 'the middles' started talking to Snape about yet another ski trip that they had planned. Harry relaxed and engaged Andy in conversation about a few spells from _Potent, Dangerous, and Still Light Combat Spells. _Kolya joined them; it seemed that they didn't know those spells and counters either, and they found it a good idea to try them the next day in the garden. Harry was explaining wand movements of a spell, the incantation, the theory behind it, when to his mortification he found that the talk about snow trips had died down, and Snape was listening to Harry.

_Drat._

"What hex are you talking about, Potter?"

"Er… Actually, it's classified as a spell," Harry stammered. "It's just similar to a hex."

"Its name?" Snape demanded, frowning.

"Stinging spell," Harry explained reluctantly, "it's similar to Stinging hex, but-"

"But is doesn't cause lasting damage on nerves even if used repeatedly," Snape cut him off.

_Show off. _Harry commented in his head. _And a hypocrite, considering how often you took points from Hermione for being 'a know-it-all'. _

"What other spells do you intend to try on my sons, Potter?"

Harry bristled.

Before he managed to say something though, Andy intervened. "You are being a bit unjust here, Dad," the boy stood up to his father for the first time since Harry met him. "Harry explained how it's cast, and we'll try it on him too."

Oh, no. They were in for a row. Snape would be incensed that someone dared to oppose him, and there was possibly a shouting match coming. Chris would be so disappointed. Harry knew he had to say something quickly.

His brain refused to provide any words.

"It's something else to hear it explained and to have cast it before," Severus explained to his son patiently.

"Harry- " Andy started. Harry surmised the boy wanted to explain that Harry himself had just learned the spell from a book. To that, Snape would just smirk and say they were not to trust a Potter.

"Let's not argue," Harry interrupted Andy with a worried glance towards the stairs. "It's Christmas. I'll give you a list of spells I want to try in the morning, if that's alright with you. Sir," Harry added for a good measure.

Snape smirked at him, leaving Harry stunned. What there was to smirk about?

"That will be acceptable, Mr. Potter," the unbelievable wizard said. Then he turned from Harry back to the Middles and started yet another conversation.

Kolya raised a very Snape-like eyebrow at Harry. "Afraid of our father much?"

"Our mother, I would say," Andy corrected his twin.

"Sorry," Harry apologised sheepishly, "I don't have much experience with parents."

"I bet they are pretty similar to having an aunt and an uncle," Kolya dismissed. Andy observed pensively. No doubt using his creepy insightfulness.

Harry decided it was about time he changed the topic. He started talking about spells again, and to his relief the boys gamely complied.

Soon enough, Chris descended the stairs with two crestfallen little boys. Especially Sasha seemed on the verge of tears when he put a small toy car into the box. Harry suddenly felt extremely sorry for him.

"Come on, boys, I'm sure very special toys are waiting for you," Chris tried to cheer them up. It worked miraculously.

"Can I get the first present?" Sasha asked boldly.

"I don't see why not," Chris seated them on the sofa and went to the tree. She took out a big present, commenting, "This one is together for Sasha and Mark."

Four little hands ripped through the wrappings, and the Babies squealed when they opened the box. Harry bowed forward to have a better look. Mark took out a small owlet. It wasn't much bigger than Ron's Pig. Sasha gently ruffled its feathers with his forefinger.

"She doesn't have a name yet," Chris informed them, "also, she can't fly yet. You need to take good care of her."

The twins nodded fervently.

Chris added, "she still has to house with Franchesca. If you want, you can take them both to your room."

"Yes, yes," the twins enthused.

"Franchesca is mum's owl," Andy explained to Harry quietly. "I and Kolya have Homér together, and the Middles have an owl named Sofia."

Chris handed one present to everyone else, whilst the Babies played with surprising gentleness with the little fluffball.

Harry opened his small narrow present, revealing an envelope. From the corner of his eye, he could see others got the same present. The envelope contained a ticket inviting him to a paintball game center and a leaflet describing the rules of the game.

He blinked owlishly at the tickets and then at the Snapes. They all had the same tickets and leaflets, even Snape and Chris.

"Paintball?" Pavel wondered. His twin's head was bent over the leaflet.

"Sounds like fun," Kolya grinned.

"Yeah," Andy joined. "Like a duel or a battle where you don't have to concentrate on spells but on strategy, hiding and attacking."

"Exactly," Chris beamed at her son. "I say we are in for an extremely interesting experience."

"Giving presents to yourself?" Snape asked his wife in a teasing voice that Harry had never hear before. It sounded affectionate and gentle.

She grinned at him. "Somehow I had a feeling no one would give me a paintball game ticket, darling."

Andy noted to Harry. "Mum always gives the most surprising gifts."

Harry smiled at him, nodding. It was definitely surprising, and a wonderful gift. It would be a hell of a lot of fun. And Harry would get to shoot Snape, too!

"What about us?" Mark asked, sounding peeved. "We want to go to this shooting game too!" He had already transferred the owlet to his twin, who had it scooped in his small palms, and was eyeing Eduard's leaflet.

"You will have to wait till you are 14," Chris said apologetically. "You will stay here with Minerva."

"You already reserved a day for us?" Andy asked, sounding delighted.

"December 28th. We have one hour to get dressed in the special garments and to learn how to operate the gun. There is a shooting range. Then we have the place booked for two hours just for us, and then for another two hours we might be joined by some random people. Up to sixteen people can fight a battle."

"So, we are going to that former factory place, not to those outside playfields?" Pavel asked, waiving his leaflet in the air.

Chris nodded, and started handing another round of gifts, starting with the still disgruntled Mark.

Harry got a box that revealed a pair of brand new trainers. He looked at Chris. "Thank you," he said gratefully. "They are great." He hoped the shoes weren't too expensive.

Chris smiled at him indulgently, apparently not bothered by the spent money.

Harry decided to put the trainers on immediately. They fit perfectly. Harry happily went to put his borrowed slippers into a cabinet in the changing hall.

When he got back in, Snape was being teased over his reluctance to pull his nose out of a book – no, a journal, Harry corrected himself, noticing it wasn't printed but handwritten.

Harry sat on his place beside Andy and mouthed silently, "What?"

"We translated a whole year's worth of a Russian Potions magazine." Andy's explanation was hardly audible, as the rest of the room was laughing so loudly. "Something similar to Potions Monthly in Britain."

Harry nodded his understanding. Good for him, he guessed. Snape would read and leave him alone. Aloud, he asked, "What have you gotten?"

Andrei blushed. "A restaurant vocher. I want to take Eva out, but her parents wouldn't let me take her anywhere but a posh restaurant. All my savings wouldn't be enough for that."

"That's great that you can see her," Harry said a little enviously. He missed Hermione dearly.

"Chaperoned by her older brother," Andy grimaced.

Harry rolled his eyes. That was really ridiculous. He decided he would buy a belated Christmas present for Hermione's parents. He was lucky to have them. They weren't preposterous – like Eva's parents – they weren't even as demanding as Mrs. Weasley would be if he dated Ginny.

"I told you, they are suffocating us," Andy complained. Then with obvious need to be fair, he added, "Adam's alright, though. He's a seventh year, and he supports our relationship."

"That's great," Harry encouraged. "He's more important than parents, at least until you are out of school."

"Presents," Chris handed them another round. Harry had gotten the familiar rewrapped present.

He unwrapped it, and caressed the cover, not bothering to open the book. Instead he looked around the Snapes. Chris was admiring a piece of jewellery, a small golden locket. Harry could easily guess who it was from – Snape got a big kiss from her.

"Open it," the man advised.

When opened, the locket showed that it was noticeably bigger in the inside. Chris beamed at it. "I wish you were there too," she said.

Harry wondered what she meant by that. He found out soon enough. Chris sent the pendant around so that they all could have a look. There was an oval picture showing the heads of her six sons. They looked just like now; it had to be a very recent picture.

Harry passed it along. When the jewellery reached Chris again, she beamed at the picture, and then put the locket on her throat. Harry suddenly remembered the Weasley clocks with hands pointing where the members of the family just dwelled. He wished he knew the spells behind it. He would replicate them for the Snape family and gave them to Chris to pay back for all she had done for him.

To his surprise, Harry got two more presents - a box containing four kinds of Muggle sweets from the Babies and the Middles. Sasha explained him that each of them had picked something looking particularly tasty in the Muggle supermarket a few days ago. He hinted heavily that Harry was supposed to share with them. The second gift was a khaki green t-shirt with a big beige picture of cannabis leaf from Andy and Kolya. He thanked all of them, honestly touched to get so many nice things.

He also observed the presents of the Snapes. He paid partial attention to Snape's of course, because he was genuinely interested in what anyone could give to the foul man. Apart from the paintball game ticket, and the translated magazines, Snape got two more books, one on Australian magical plants, and one called 'All Tasmanian Fauna and Flora'. As Pavel got the same book about Tasmania, and Andy got a small book on Aborigines' warding and runes, Harry wondered if the Snapes were going to spend their next holiday in Australia. Lucky them.

Snape also got – and loudly appreciated – hand-made sculptures of some weird beetles made from painted stones, and wires. It was clear that the kids made them, and were really proud about it. They basked in their father's praise like cats in the sun. Harry watched wistfully. This was something Voldemort had taken away from him.

It wasn't before he was in bed when Harry smugly realised that if he counted the sweets as two presents - they were from two sets of twins, after all - he had got the same amount of presents as Snape!


	5. December 25th

**DECEMBER 25th**

Harry woke up from yet another bad dream with a gasp. Damn it! Couldn't he have one single night of undisturbed sleep? He idly wondered how hard it could be to brew a Dreamless Sleep Potion.

It was dark, but Harry had a feeling that it was nearer to the morning than to midnight. He took his glasses from the bedside table and his wand from the same place. He cast Lumos and found it was a few minutes shy of five a.m. He decided that trying to get back to sleep was useless. He got up, put on his new trainers – he really liked them! - and noiselessly tiptoed to the kitchen, glad that the stairs didn't make any sounds.

He easily navigated through the darkness of the living room to the kitchen. He didn't bother to turn on a light, the moon reflecting on the snow behind the window illuminated the room enough for him to see shapes distinctly. He debated with himself whether to make tea, or if he should just grab some juice from the fridge. He shivered even though it wasn't particularly cold in the kitchen and decided for the tea. He took the cattle, filled it with water and put it on the heater. Whilst waiting, he stared out of the window. He noticed the moon was big, and the stars very bright.

Suddenly, something moved.

Harry bent slightly so his face would be nearer to the window, so that he could see what it was running in the garden. Second later, he realised the window actually mirrored something moving behind him, and he swirled. There was a huge shape in the door. Snape.

Damn it.

"Making mischief, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked. Despite the cold words, his voice lacked his usual biting edge.

"Making tea," Harry said firmly.

Snape switched the light on. Harry blinked in the sudden brightness. Snape was clad in pyjamas with some kind of stripes, and he was barefoot. Harry suddenly wondered if this was all real.

"Make me a cup, if you will, then," Snape ordered, and sat at the table.

The water finally started boiling, rescuing Harry. He busied himself with the pot and cups. He had no wish to share tea with Snape at the table, but the unwritten rule was that food and drinks were consumed only in the kitchen and the living room. If Harry took it to the living room, though, Snape would probably follow him just out of spite.

"Don't forget the sugar bowl," Snape reminded him. Harry had the feeling the git was laughing at him. Cheering that he managed to reduce Harry to a House-Elf, probably.

Harry put all the utensils on the table very gently, and went to retrieve milk from the fridge. He decided not to be provoked. For Chris' sake.

He returned with the sugar bowl, and found Snape had already poured himself a cup. Of course, Snape hadn't bothered to fill Harry's. Not as if Harry wanted him to. Seeing common courtesy from Snape could make Harry faint.

Harry prepared his cup, with just a bit of milk, just how he liked it. The hot liquid steamed a bit, and Harry would be happy to just sit and observe the faint stream of vapour vanishing as it rose. If only he was alone. With Snape's looming presence nothing was calming. It was downright irritating.

Harry stared at his cup, willing the liquid to get colder soon. Very soon, please! Why hadn't he just poured himself the juice, he lamented inwardly.

"Nightmares again?" Snape inquired. He was talking very quietly; in the silence of the house his voice was perfectly clear.

_None of your business. _

"If they plague you too often, you should consult Madam Pomfrey," Snape continued when any response wasn't coming.

_Leave me alone! _

Harry tried to sip his tea, but of course it was still too hot. _Maybe I should add some more milk?_

"Or ask me for a dose of a Dreamless Sleep Potion," Snape added, seemingly as an afterthought.

Harry resolutely shook his head. He wouldn't ask Snape for anything. Ever. Again. He had asked Snape to save Sirius. In vain.

Snape pursued his lips. "Always- " Then he stopped himself.

_Always so arrogant, just like your father, blah blah blah,_ Harry easily supplied the rest of the sentence. Same old, same old.

"That tea hasn't gotten any colder in the last two seconds, Potter," Snape snapped at him irritably, his voice still only above a whisper. He took a deep breath. Calm again Snape ordered, "List the spells you want to try with Andrei."

"The stinging spell," Harry reminded Snape of the one he had mentioned in the evening. "Then, the Scottish Blinding spell, Illusionist's Trick, Otto', Grette', and Hanus' Disarming spells." According to the book Otto, Grette, and Hanus were triplets who were completely inseparable, and after Hogwarts they all apprenticed as spell crafters. Many times they invented three different spells with the same or similar results. Harry thought that Expeliarmus was a nifty spell, but there was strength in variety. Not as if he bothered to explain all this to Snape. He named two more spells.

"That's acceptable." Snape informed him.

Harry's eyes shifted up at the Potions Master for the first time this morning. Snape didn't object to one single spell Harry had chosen?

"You will need adult supervision, though," Snape added. Harry wondered if he really saw a hint of smirk in his face.

"I thought I would ask Chris," Harry said truthfully.

"My wife will be spending the morning in the orphanage," Snape informed him smugly. "Thus you will have to bear with me."

_Oh, bother!_ Harry couldn't step back and call the whole thing off without losing face. He drunk his damned tea, and excused himself, fleeing to his room. This definitely wasn't a good morning.

Harry laid back into his bed, lighting the bedside lamp, and reread all the parts of the book concerning the spells he had listed to Snape. He didn't want the foul man to catch him at any mistake. Snape would find something to berate Harry about. No need to hand him ammunition.

Xxx

"The most important thing on casting the Illusionist's Trick is the movement of the hand and the wave of the wand. And intention, of course. The spell is supposed to be one of the easiest that can be mastered nonverbally. According to the book, that is." Harry furrowed a brow. They started non-verbal casting this year, but Harry – just like majority of his classmates - hadn't yet been very successful.

He repeated the movement of the wand very slowly again, and tried to ignore Snape lurking from his armchair.

The morning brought heavy wind and soon it started snowing madly. For that, Andy had suggested to Chris that they tried the new spells in the living room, promising they would leave duelling in the garden for better weather.

"_Of course, darling," Chris had said, looking a bit harried. She was packing some of the chocolate the Snapes had brewed the previous day, and boxes of fruits and piles of some other food, adding it to the box of toys, and a box of clothes. All along, Sasha and Mark tailed her, begging her relentlessly to take them to the orphanage. _

"_Fine!" she had said finally, peeved. "If you close your mouth for a few minutes and let me think!"_

_Harry had to grin, because the babies didn't leave her alone but thanked her profusely and then started pestering her with tales about what they would do with the orphanage kids and what they would tell them._

"_For Merlin's sake!" Chris waved her hands exasperatedly. "Go to check on the owls. Now! Shoo, shoo."_

Harry grinned at the memory. Soon afterwards, Chris and the babies had left through the Floo. Andy and Harry were joined by the three other boys who decided they could do with a few more spells as well. Snape pushed an armchair farther towards the fireplace, indicating that he was a mere observer here – or so Harry hoped.

Harry started explaining the spells, one at a time, always starting with the name, what it accomplished, wand movements, the required incantation, and its counter spell. Then they tried it. To Harry's relief, he always managed to cast the spell the first time he tried. Andy had the same rate of success. The three other boys sometimes needed more tries before they got it right, but with Harry's help they successfully progressed through the spells as well.

To Harry's astonishment, Snape refrained from uttering sarcastic comments or critique. The man simply watched silently. It made Harry nervous, but he tried his best to ignore the wizard.

Harry decided he liked the three disarming spells the most. They were as handy as Expeliarmus. However, none of the three spells pushed the rival like Expeliarmus did, so in a way they were safer.

Harry remembered his third year when he and his friends had used Expeliarmus on Snape together and knocked him out completely. He could imagine a person might even die after a crash into a wall or something.

On the other hand, Otto's Disarming spell merely summoned the other person's wand. Hanus had topped his triplet, because his spell summoned any weapon the rival carried – the book said sometimes even a sharp quill was summoned. Grette's Disarming spell was in Harry's opinion 'a lady' spell – though he would never dare to say it aloud in front of Hermione. It confused the rival, turning their mood peaceful, disarming them mentally instead of physically. For Harry it was kind of a women's approach, in a positive sort of way, of course. He didn't really get why girls were affronted when you told them they thought or behaved like girls. It was the way it should be, right?

Harry was helping Eduard, who couldn't get a grasp on the Grette's Disarming spell. He again patiently walked him through the movement of the arm and wrist, and the wand motion. He noticed the younger boy looked fatigued. Harry decided to end the study session after this spell, even though originally he had wanted to teach two more.

It took four rounds of explanations and repeated demonstrations, but finally Eda produced the spell, sending Harry into the required, peacefully unfocused, state. After a few seconds, Harry shook his head, getting his focus back. He grinned at Eduard winningly, "That was just it!"

Eda grinned back, and breathed, "Thanks."

"Well," Harry pushed up his glasses, looking at the rest of the boys, "I guess that's enough for now. What about some tea? I'm starving."

His suggestion was met with enthusiasm. Andy clapped his back. Kolya offered to fetch some chocolate. And Pavel went first to put the kettle on. Harry stayed behind, retrieving his book from the coffee table. He decided to put it away in his room before going to the kitchen.

Snape stood. Harry straightened immediately and fought the urge to go for his wand.

Snape only watched him with his inscrutable dark eyes. Harry swallowed. He forcibly relaxed his hand holding the book, as he noticed his knuckles had turned white. He turned around and hurried to his room. When he reached the stairs, he heard, "Potter."

He turned around, slowly, nearly against his will.

"You surprised me." With that, the maddening man headed to the kitchen.

Harry stared after him, not believing his ears. 'You surprised me.' _What the hell was that supposed to mean? _

He climbed slowly upstairs. There was no point in hurrying anymore – he had no wish what so ever to have tea with Snape. He sat at his bed, and absentmindedly stroked the book that was still in his hand.

Snape had promised – if promised was the right word – to ignore Harry. Instead of ignoring, he kept starting confusing talks. Weird. Weird. Harry so missed Hermione. She would have at least a theory or two on Snape's peculiar behaviour. Suddenly, Harry remembered that _The Secreted Secrets, __the more practical Occlumency __book, mentioned among various other uses of meditation figuring out riddles in the state of deep peacefulness._

_Harry lied on his back, and tried to turn all his concentration to the memory of his slow shuffling around th__e garden, basking in the sun and in the warmth of Chris_' warming charm, the unhurried moving of his skis, alone in the garden and seemingly in the whole white world.

He was there. The right state of mind. Contentedly, Harry turned his mind to the Snape mystery. No comments on Harry's gifts for the orphanage, and none on his lack of gifts for the family. Odd dialogs in the oddest hours in the morning. What was Snape doing up, again? Snape's silence during their defence practice. And lastly, his comment about Harry surprising him.

Mmmm. Hmm.

It didn't make sense.

Snape just kept Harry off balance, without apparent reason. And there was always a reason with Snape. Harry couldn't figure it out, but that didn't mean the reason wasn't there. A mean, threatening, shifty reason. Snape was the chief Slytherin - an ultimate Slytherin – and they never did anything the direct way.

Of course!

Harry bolted upright. Of course! Snape had decided that the direct attacks on Harry backfired on him. So because of that, he pretended a truce, and fought under his hand. Keeping Harry off balance, preparing to strike under the belt.

Harry was damned. Whatever the sorting hat might have meant when he was eleven, Harry wasn't a Slytherin. He wasn't sneaky, and he never spotted a sneaky attack in time.

Snape would be turning his family against Harry, he realised, with a hidden barb here and a mean comment there. Snape would do it discreetly enough for his family to never notice they were being manipulated. Soon, Harry would be a pariah here. How did one protect himself against slander?

Harry took a deep breath and released it slowly. He had to think it through calmly.

It was December 25th and they were going back on January 9th. It meant that Harry just had to survive 15 more days here. Snape wouldn't be able to change the minds of the family members immediately, especially as McGonagall was coming the day after tomorrow. Harry guessed that he should be okay at least till the end of the year. He might be in for tough days in January, though. He imagined Andy turning his back on him, the Middles shaking their heads in disgust, Chris' eyes full of disappointment, and the babies' little faces scrunched in bemused disbelief of how bad can people be…

Enough!

Harry pursed his lips. He may not be able to fight Snape, the sneaky snake, but he was able to fight and direct his thoughts. And his thoughts wouldn't be wasted on Snape!

Harry took his old sneakers out of his trunk, opened the _Tidy Household by Tilda Cleansweaper_ on the page on cleaning shoes spells, prepared his wand, and got to practising. He was going to be hated here, as he had been hated at the Dursleys. No matter. Harry swore to himself it was the very last time. In the summer, he would be with someone who liked him, or otherwise on his own, even if it killed him.

With that calming thought, he attacked the dirt on his old shoe with vigour.

The knock sounded just when Harry was inspecting his sneaker. It was indeed clean now, though it looked rather worse for wear. Harry tried to determine which holes had already been there and which he had added now.

It was Andy.

"Hi." He stuck his dark-haired head into the room.

"Come in," Harry invited. Then he remembered he shouldn't take anything for granted anymore. "If you want, that is."

"The weather's got better, so Dad and brothers are going to a ski trip. I came to ask you if I should stay?" Andy asked.

Harry thought for a second. Andy seemed honest, and willing to stay for Harry. He had a feeling, though, that Andy would prefer to go to the trip.

"I'm good," he assured Andy. "Go for the ride. I'll be reading and practising spells and charms." He motioned with his chin to the sneaker he was holding.

"Alright, then," Andy agreed. "We'll be back around 3 o'clock, I think, 4 at the latest. Mum should be back by then too. Find yourself some lunch, will you?"

"Sure." Harry nodded.

Andy hesitated. "I feel like we are neglecting you."

Harry laughed. "What am I? A toddler?" He snickered. It was by far the silliest thing he had heard from Andy.

"Our guest," Andy said frowning. "We are supposed- "

"Save that for McGonagall," Harry cut him off. "I'm used to being on my own."

"Okay," Andy agreed, but his face, for some reason, turned even more serious. He seemed on the verge of saying something. He changed his mind, thought, and left with a parting nod.

"See you," Harry called after him, and then turned his mind back to household charms. He imagined Hermione would be impressed with him next summer.

After a quarter of an hour, Harry decided the Snapes should be out already, and he went to find something to eat. It was a bit early for lunch, but Harry hadn't lied when he said he was hungry – even if it hadn't been the reason for their session to end.

xxx

To Harry's relief, the first voices he heard that afternoon belonged to Sasha and Mark. Harry was in the safety of his room, reading through his Charms homework. His eyes flew to the clock on the wall. To his astonishment it was after 2 o'clock, already. He got up swiftly and hurried downstairs.

"Hi, Harry," chorused the babies. Chris joined their greetings.

Harry thought she looked tired. Maybe he could try to baby-sit the small twins again?

"Hi," he answered, and informed them, "Snape and everyone else went on a ski trip." Maybe it was just his imagination, but he thought Chris' face fell a little.

"Dad's gone?" Mark pouted.

"We wanted to play with him," Sasha joined his twin in the sulk. They wore t-shirts with their names on it. It was nifty for telling them apart. Pity they didn't wear it all the time.

"I thought maybe you could show me some wizarding toys?" Harry suggested. "I was raised a Muggle, so I never had any. If it's okay?" He looked at Chris, who smiled at him and nodded.

"Sure!" Mark enthused and took Harry by the hand. "We'll show you our new magical building blocks!"

"Or the racing slugs!" Sasha suggested.

"Or the Hogwarts Express!" Mark countered immediately, his voice raised. Harry noticed that Chris pressed her forefingers to her temples.

"Or our Legos!" Sasha shouted excitedly. Chris vanished into the kitchen.

"He knows Legos, silly, it's Muggle," Mark objected, and Harry didn't bother to correct him. Of course Dudley had never let Harry to even glance at his precious Legos.

"Alright, we can battle with our dragons and wizards army!" Sasha took his brother's critique in stride.

"Or play magic memory game! I always win that!" Mark boasted, jumping up and down in excitement.

"Or Merlin's Treasure Hunt!" Sasha all but screamed, waving his arms wildly.

"Alright," Harry laughed. He decided the boys were on a serious sugar-high trip. He motioned towards the stairs, "Lead on, it all sounds fun. Maybe we shouldn't battle, so we wouldn't scare your owlet."

"We'll fight on the other side of the room," Sasha waved the problem away.

"But we need to find the best name for the owlet, too," Mark remembered. "Maybe we should do it first."

"Maybe a name will just come out during the games," Harry suggested.

"Okay! Yeah!" The babies exclaimed at the same time. They run to their room to check on the birds.

"How cute is he! Cutest ever," Mark cooed. "He looks smart."

"He's gonna be the fastest owl ever," Sasha scratched the owlet's head gently and then he petted the adult owl who was on the watch over the fluffy owl baby. "We could name it Wind."

"Or Storm!"

"Racket!"

"I don't like Racket." Mark frowned.

"What about Pinocchio? Look at his beak!"

"Or just name it Owl, like in Winnie the Pooh cartoons."

"Or Dragon!"

"Smart Wings!"

"Or Merlin!"

"Lancelot!"

"Hercules!"

Harry looked from one to the other and thought that this is how people watched tennis matches.

"Hero!"

"Ilya Muromets!"

Then the boys fluently switched to Russian, each offering a few Russian names – or so Harry thought - and then they started arguing. They were shouting more and more loudly. Harry was afraid Chris would come to tell them off, blaming Harry for this shouting match that was swiftly progressing towards a fight.

Harry clapped his hands loudly, and ordered, "Enough!"

The babies looked at him, surprised. Apparently they had forgotten all about his presence.

"I came here to play," Harry gave them a disappointed stare – he had been on the receiving end of so many of those, that it wasn't a problem to emulate one. "Not to watch you fighting."

"Sorry," the babies mumbled.

"It's alright," Harry assured them. "Okay, we have a big list of fun things we want to do, so let's start with the new building blocks, alright? What do they look like? Can we build a castle and use it for wizards and dragons later?"

Harry totally loved wizarding toys. And Legos. He lost himself in playing with the small boys and totally forgot the time.

He was just lying on his stomach on the carpet, trying to protect his Lego castle with one Hungarian Horntail flying around it and five wizards on the walls against the advancing twins' army consisting of ten wizards and three dragons, when someone cleared their throat loudly. Harry turned towards the door, and blanched. It was Snape.

His short negligence became his downfall. The twins destroyed his fortress with a winning shout, sending his magical figures crashing down.

Snape snorted. "Constant vigilance, Potter!"

Harry thought the git was enjoying it more than strictly necessary.

"Dad!" The babies greeted him exuberantly, jumping at him both at the same time.

Harry stood up quickly, and took his fallen figurines to put them back on the shelf where they belonged. Then he took two more turns with the rest of the dragons and wizards. He took the Lego box and started swiftly throwing the pieces in. They had made some serious mess, and Harry wouldn't wait for Snape to berate him for it.

Snape had no time to spare, fortunately, as Sasha was describing the battle over the magic blocks castle where Harry was the attacker and the babies were the protectors. At the same time Mark talked about the battle the Snape had seen the end of. Each boy was trying to talk louder than the other one, so their father heard his story. Harry gleefully thought Snape must be half deaf from their shouting.

"Boys, boys," Snape laughed._ Laughed!_

Harry could see in his peripheral vision that Snape put the twins down. "One after another. Mark, you start."

Harry was finished with Legos before Mark narrated their battle, and he moved to pick up the magical building block. He was swiftly filling the corresponding box with the pieces, listening idly to Sasha replacing his brother and babbling about the dragons and wizards. Soon, the floor was nearly empty, with the exception of a few small balls, and other few miscellaneous toys - they had been experimenting with implementing new 'weapons' into the battling.

Snape gently interrupted Sasha with, "You should help Harry with cleaning your room. He's not a House-elf after all."

Harry gritted his teeth. He was sure the small boys couldn't recognise the mocking in their father's voice. Of course he would send them to help now when there was near to nothing to tidy up. There was no winning with the foul man.

_Be calm, be calm, be calm_, he repeated to himself. He would keep his temper. He wasn't stupid. Snape wanted him to argue, to talk back, to rage. To lose his good reputation.

Harry put the rest of the toys back into a huge box containing a mixture of various kinds of toys, before the twins even started helping him. He smiled at the babies, "See you, guys."

He moved carefully around Snape in the door, nodding at the man with a carefully neutral face, "Sir."

"Dinner in ten minutes, Mr Potter." Snape called after him. His voice didn't betray any disappointment that Harry hadn't reacted to his provoking. Snape certainly could play this game, Harry thought glumly.

He changed the directions and instead of to his room, he headed to a bathroom. Thanks to that, he could hear one of the babies ask his father. "Daddy, why do you call Harry 'Mr Potter'?"

"Because he's my student."

"So, if I were your student you would call me Mr Dworkin? And how would I know you called me and not Mark, Andy, or the others?"

"Thank Merlin, we only have one Potter at Hogwarts," Snape answered with granting reverence.

It was the very last sentence Harry heard before he closed the door very firmly behind him.

Xxx

During dinner, Harry kept his head down. He was waiting for a sneak verbal attack from Snape. He even couldn't enjoy the shepherd's pie properly, his nerves didn't let him.

So far, Kolya and Pavel were talking about the ski trip.

"You were back much later than I would have thought," Chris commented. "It had been dark for more than an hour."

"Our time management was poor," Snape admitted. "We were lucky the weather hasn't changed."

"We could have always apparated home," Andy pointed out. Then, after a thought, he added. "It must be bad for Muggles, the uncertainty."

"They are used to it," Pavel shrugged carelessly. "Pass the dill pickles, please, Dad."

"Well, plan better tomorrow," Chris ordered. "Then beneficiary banquet starts at seven, so we have to start dinner at half past five at the very latest."

Snape heaved a loud sigh. The babies giggled, the middles snorted, and the firsties laughed.

"Oh, be silent, you," Snape mock warned, "or we will take you along."

His warning brought a new round of giggling and snorts.

"I'm sure you will survive, darling," Chris pacified her husband with amusement. Then she changed the topic, "and what about your morning defence session, boys?"

"It was fun," Kolya answered.

"We mastered the Scottish Blinding spell, the Illusionist's Trick, and three disarming spells," Andy elaborated.

"What a feast," Chris said approvingly.

"What's the Illusionist's Trick?" Sasha inquired enthusiastically. "It sounds fun! I can't wait to learn magic too!"

There was a short silence. Later, Harry guessed that everybody expected someone else to explain it. Harry, personally, had thought the question was directed at Chris. She was the teacher here, after all.

"Potter!" Snape ordered, "Explain."

Harry's head shot up. _Why him?_

He looked at Chris hopefully. Maybe she would explain it. Unfortunately, she only nodded at him, encouraging him.

Harry looked at Sasha, thinking about an explanation simple enough for a small boy to grasp. He decided to help himself with a practical example. "Excuse me," he apologised to Chris, standing up, and moving behind his chair.

"Er, you create an illusion of yourself," he told to Sasha, and flicked his wand, saying the corresponding incantation. "The illusion is visible, while you turn invisible – that means nobody can see you. And then you can move without being spotted. The illusion stays on the place where you had said the incantation."

"Whilst you move and surprise you opponent from a different direction," Harry finished. By this time, he was standing right behind Sasha.

With a whispered 'finite' he reappeared and the illusion vanished.

Sasha was looking around, and finally spotted Harry behind his shoulder. "That's neat!" he enthused.

"The illusion wasn't moving," Mark said thoughtfully. "But your voice was."

"Well spotted," Harry praised the boy. He was genuinely surprised Mark would notice. "It would be definitely better if I didn't talk while disillusioned."

He sat back and took his cutlery. He added, "Also, I need to work on casting it non-verbally - that's without saying it aloud," he added to be sure the babies were following him. "As I said it aloud, the opponent would knew immediately I was there hidden somewhere."

"Ever considered becoming a teacher, Harry?" Chris asked him.

Harry flushed. He realised he must have appeared to be a complete show-off to the family.

"Well, I-" he stammered.

"Potter showed interest in leading illegal school groups," Snape smirked.

Harry sighed. Andy laughed. Someone – Eduard – Harry thought, whistled and laughed. The babies giggled. Harry wondered if they even knew what 'illegal' meant.

"Care to explain?" Andy asked Harry with amused curiosity.

"Not really," Harry answered uncomfortably, and glanced at Chris sideways. He hoped she wasn't too upset. He busied himself with his dinner, hoping everyone would forget again that he was there.

"Dad?" Andy turned to his father for answer. Harry felt like groaning. Why he couldn't let go?

"Mr Potter decided that the Defence lessons were subpar and took it upon himself to rectify the situation," Snape was all too happy to inform his family.

"What's 'subpar'?"

"Lower than standard. Bad quality. Disappointing," Kolya tried three times before the small boys grasped the meaning.¨

Harry had been decided on refusing to rise to Snape's barbs, but now he reconsidered. He had made mistakes, a lot of them, for sure, but he couldn't be faulted on this one. "She had us read a book on theory all year round, without any practise," he explained indignantly. "She said we wouldn't need to protect ourselves because we were safe at the school."

"That sounds rather irresponsible." Chris sounded scandalised. "Severus?"

Harry guessed Chris was asking Snape if Harry was lying, going subtle about it.

"I'm afraid the teacher was remarkably useless this year," Snape admitted. "The Ministry forced her on Albus rather uncompromisingly."

"The Ministry of Magic in Great Britain is in a strong need of massive change," Chris frowned angrily.

"The massive change that we fear is about to happen is not of the kind we would prefer," Snape informed her gravely.

Harry mulled over the words for a minute before it started making any sense. Then with a gasp he realised what Snape was implying. "Is Volde- "

He was cut short by Chris. "Don't say his name!" she objected sharply.

Harry sat back, stunned. What had he done to have his head bitten off?

"It's not safe," she added in a milder tone, noting Harry's reaction.

"Why?" he asked, baffled. What could possibly be unsafe in using a name? Soon, he found he had still lots to learn about magic.

"Don't argue with your hostess, Potter," Snape reprimanded. "It's unbecoming."

Harry glared at him. "I'm not."

He turned to Chris, "Really. I just want to know why it's unsafe. Dumbledore said fearing You-Know-Who's name," he grimaced at the stupid moniker, "just gives him more power over us."

"He had his name jinxed. Each time someone pronounced it aloud, his followers apparated in on the tracking spell imbedded in the jinx, and struck the witches or wizards they found."

"Even those who didn't say the name?" Andy asked, horrified. Harry was glad he wasn't the only one uninformed. He certainly felt like an ignorant way too often here.

"Everyone," Chris said sadly, glancing at the babies. Without spelling it out, everyone over five understood the implication. Chris continued, "He's getting stronger again, and it's entirely possible that he activated the jinx again. Saying it aloud, you should be prepared to fend off an attack."

"It might be useful for creating traps for the Death-eaters," Harry mused pensively.

"There will be no traps here!" Snape informed him in a voice that promised immediate and painful death.

"Of course not!" Harry agreed quickly.

"Curb your Gryffindorish impulsiveness or I'll do it for you!" Snape snapped at him nastily enough for Mark to start sniffling.

"I would never- " Harry started hotly. Then he trailed off and shook his head. There was no way he would change Snape's mind. The man was ignoring him anyway, he was currently placing Mark on his lap and calming him.

Harry sighed silently, and stood up. "Thank you for dinner," he told Chris. He hoped she wouldn't be offended that he left nearly half of the food on his plate. He just wanted to get away from Snape.

Chris just smiled at him.

Harry noticed she still looked tired, and he felt incredibly guilty. "Sorry," he mumbled, and fled to his room.

_How could everything go so downhill so quickly?_ he thought morosely. Everything was fine until Snape mentioned Dumbledore's Army. Harry should have stayed silent. He hadn't and Snape had managed to twist his words so that it appeared that Harry wanted to invite the Death Eaters here. _As if he was as stupid as that._

_Score: Snape 1, Harry 0. _Harry grimaced and flopped on his bed. Which book to study now? It seemed that Harry would manage to read through each book twice before the end of the holiday.

He decided for _Foreign Curses & Hexes Fitting in English Hand. _It was interesting enough to hope it would engulf him and help him to forget where he was dwelling.

A nock on his door sounded, and predictably it was Andy who poked his head in. "Dad's going to take us to a theatre to see a James Bond movie. If you want to come? Oh, and Mum asks if you are hungry."

"No to both, thanks," Harry answered, fingering the book in his lap.

"It should be fun, about fighting and espionage," Andy informed him needlessly. It wasn't as if Harry never heard about James Bond.

"No, thanks," Harry said with finality.

Andy seemed troubled. "If you are not sleeping when we get back, I'll tell you about it," he promised.

Harry nodded, and looked at the clock's. It was nearly 8 p.m. He doubted he would be awake when Andy got back.

Behind the closed door, Harry heard someone speaking quietly, and then Andy's louder 'No.' Then there sounded an even louder annoyed 'For God's sake!' in Snape's voice.

The door burst open. At the same time Harry shot up from his bed and raised his wand.

"Stop playing martyr!" Snape ordered, stepping into the room. Seeing the wand in Harry's hand pointed his way, he raised an eyebrow.

_Go away, jerk!_ Harry was willing him silently, without moving his wand an inch.

"I might have over-reacted at dinner. Now stop playing a victim and come to the theatre," Snape bit out, not looking apologetic in the slightest.

Harry shook his head mutely. He would sooner accompanied _Dementors_ to a movie than Snape.

"As you wish," Snape said in disinterested voice, and left.

Harry swallowed, and put his wand to his night-table. He noticed his hand was shaking slightly.

He flopped on his bed. He hated Snape! _Hated him! _

And he hated Dumbledore nearly as much as Snape. Why the hell he sent him in here, to share Christmas with a man who had detested his guts before he even met Harry? Why had he forced him on the Dursleys and never bothered to check on him during nearly ten years? Why was Dumbledore sending him back for the holidays when Harry all but spelled out for him that they were horrid to him? Why did Dumbledore never step in and fight for him when the Daily Prophet slandered Harry, and whole school treated him like a pariah? Why didn't Dumbledore support him when the Ministry, through Umbridge, had made his life so miserable?

It was as if Dumbledore purposefully made Harry's life miserable!

Dumbledore and the Ministry. Something was nagging Harry's brain. What was it? The thought was there, but somehow out of reach, eluding Harry. He frowned. Maybe he should calm his mind again and meditate.

He closed his eyes, but before he managed to do anything else, the sound of stampeding hippogriffs and pounding on his door interrupted him.

"Yes?" he called.

Sasha and Mark waltzed into his room, speaking simultaneously.

"Come to watch a movie with us!"

"Movie and popcorn, come on, hurry!"

Harry grinned at them, and followed them downstairs.

Chris came to the living from the opposite side, levitating a TV and a recorder.

As if someone lighted a bulb, Harry suddenly remembered. Dumbledore, when he had forced Harry on Chris, claimed that Harry couldn't stay at school, because the Ministry wanted something with Harry.

"Do you know what Dumbledore meant about the Ministry?" he blurted. "Er-…"

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. Then she shook her head, "I could only guess. Maybe Minerva will have your answer."

"And what would you guess?" Harry persisted. He'd come to value Chris' opinions somehow.

"If- and I mean if," she emphasized, "if your relatives are in a hospital or-" she hesitated, "for some other reason unable to be your guardians, even temporarily, then someone through the Ministry might want to take the guardianship over you."

"And deliver me to You-Know-Who," Harry realised.

Chris gave a wary glance to the babies. Fortunately, they paid their conversation no mind.

All the same, Harry felt chagrined. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Chris installed the electronics the Muggle way – well, there probably weren't any spells for that. She put a cassette in the recorder, and then with a wave of her wand dimmed the lights a bit.

"I will bring the pop-corn," Chris announced and vanished in the kitchen.

Harry would love to follow her, and ask more about the Ministry, and also about the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix – another thing he had all but forgotten about since Dumbledore dumped him here. However, he felt he was trying Chris' patience today, and so he let it be.

He lowered himself on the couch opposite the TV. The commercial and copyrights warnings rolled on. Harry asked. "So, what are we watching?"

"The Lion King," the babies answered in one voice, and they perched at Harry's sides.

It was surprisingly snugly, to be sandwiched between them. Harry relaxed, and decided that a kids' movie with cute animals and a happy end was exactly what he needed.

"You are going to hold the popcorn box," Mark informed him.

"Ssshhs!" Sasha silenced him. "It's starting."


End file.
